


Paths, Intertwined

by Buenaventura



Category: (kinda) - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Modern AU, Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Gratuitous Smut, Loki more from Norse myth than Marvel, Magic, Magic Realism, Magical Realism, Nature, Nature Magic, Paganism, Pregnancy, Religion, familial abandonment, i wrote this so long ago, kind of a modern AU Norse Loki as played by Tom Hiddleston, mother earth, omg first fic, sorry it's awful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-12 13:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 30,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2112003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buenaventura/pseuds/Buenaventura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sort of fantasy, sort of magic realism. Set in modern times, elements of paganism.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The wind howled and the clouds threatened rain over the vast green countryside of the desolate northern lands. The distant figure struggled to move forward against the gale. He was tall, thin, and wrapped in a long black cloak that reached below his knees and carrying a long staff. He turned his collar up and hid his face from the wind. Tendrils of his thick black hair whipped around his head and into his face, having escaped from the leather thong that attempted to constrain them. He approached a small mound rising up out of the earth, so subtle was it one might not notice it was man-made. There was a short squat man, dressed in his winter clothes, sitting upon it.

“Why are you here?” he demanded of the seated man.

The cold in the stranger’s voice chilled him to the bone. Startled, he looked up into the shadowed face and fearfully replied, “A woman came to me in my dreams, she told me a powerful seeress was buried here.. If I were to come here and sleep on this mound, the seeress would grant me great wisdom. She would reveal my destiny to me.. and the keys to controlling my fate.”

“Leave.” The seated man started to protest but the stranger’s voice was dripping with deadly menace. Full of an unearthly chill, the man hurried away, back to the safety of his village.


	2. New Beginnings

The beautiful young woman had her face very nearly pressed against the window pane, eyes straining to see as much as they possibly could of the world so far below her. She had dark brown hair that fell in thick waves to her shoulders and framed her face. Her brows were black and well shaped, they arched over her deep green eyes, one could call them olive. Olive eyes and olive skin, she could be any number of ethnicities. Her facial structure hinted european, but something about it always made people take a second look. The immediacy with which people judged someone’s ethnicity usually comes so suddenly one doesn’t notice it, but her face often made people take notice of this judgement, if only because with her, they couldn’t quite do so. She was a bit taller than average, adding to the discomfort of her cramped seat. She had thin shoulders, long legs and slender hands. She was so close to the plastic her eyelashes brushed it when she blinked. Finally giving up, she sat back and sighed.

The plane had been in the air for over ten painstaking hours. It had crossed the continental US, criss-crossed with spider-webs that reached out to one another across the vast open prairies, crossed the Atlantic Ocean, monotonous except for the occasional enormous freight ship, until finally it descended through the layers of thick fog just enough to show the glimmering lights broken only by the River Thames as it wound its way through one of the greatest hubs of humanity. London. As long as the flight was, and as little sleep as she’d had, the young woman couldn’t help but stare. Four-thirty in the morning, all eight million inhabitants should be asleep, but no. Some tiny ants still crawled their way across the network of lights, nocturnal beasts there to welcome her on her descent from heaven.

The descent was short and the fog hung low to the ground. It was mere moments before she felt her stomach drop in that sickening moment in which the plane unevenly hits the ground, flaps extend and it feels as if the very wings might snap off from the force of the air pressing against them. Then it was over. The plane on the ground. The lights on. Slowly taxing in. Suddenly her sleep-deprived, over-excited brain couldn’t handle all that was happening at once. All the phone calls, with people telling their loved ones they’d landed and would be at the curb soon, that they couldn’t wait to see them and hug them, it was too much. She remembered she had no one to call.

She forced her tired mind to think, to remember her bag that was in the overhead compartment, to be patient while they all waited for what seemed like eternity, until finally she got off the plane. She followed the crowd, moving as one beast, until she realized she didn’t know where she was going and stopped, standing in the middle of the walkway as a sea of people continued to rush around her, the lone foreigner. No, there were others wearing her same confused and bewildered expression. Follow them, that’s the ticket.

Like a rat out of a maze, gratefully she burst out of the customs line to find she had no idea where to go. Her hastily scribbled notes were useless. A quick chat with the man at the visitor help counter revealed as much. Willing herself to trust him, she turned and found the lifts that would take her down to the Terminal 4 tube entrance. She was the only one in the lift without a rolling bag. She thought just bringing one backpack would be wiser, maybe not. She moved with the crowd as it headed toward the platform. She saw the metal turnstiles but knew she first had to get an Oyster card. She spent several moments staring at the screen of the automated ticket dispenser before an attendant came to her rescue and pointed her toward the manned ticket counter. She fumbled with her new currency but finally managed to buy a card and with the help of the visitor center man and her tiny tube map, she felt fairly certain she could maneuver her way up to Rotherhithe.

As the Piccadilly Line slowly made its way toward the center of London, it gradually began to fill up with daily commuters. As they edged closer to Green Park, the stop at which she’d need to change to the Jubilee, anxiety began to rise up in her throat, threatening to strangle her. _How am I ever going to get off in time? I’m blocked in, I’ll never make it to the door before it closes…_ When the moment finally came, however, it was surprisingly easy, despite having to force her way through with her overstuffed backpack, large purse and second, smaller backpack all hung on her arms. Once on the platform, she hurried to heave it all onto her shoulders and follow the maze of arrows directing her to the right platform. It was a large station and her already tired body was running purely on adrenaline now. _Jesus, how big is this place??_ Stairs, hallways, more stairs, finally she reached the platform, after spending several minutes staring at the posters with the stops listed in their strange up and down format before deciding which was the right one. _Okay, just gotta keep going east,_ she thought. She changed lines once more at Canada Water and took the Northern line to her final stop, Rotherhithe. Once there however, she stepped through the turnstiles and out onto the unfamiliar street and realized she had no idea which way to go. She looked at her notes once more, they didn’t really make sense now.

_Maybe I should call my roommate… No, maybe not it’s seven thirty in the morning.. she’ll probably be asleep. I don’t want to bother with a stupid payphone anyway. I don’t even have any change._ The sun still hadn’t risen yet, it seemed rather late to still be dark compared to home. Fatigue knawed at her brain and her eyes couldn’t seem to make sense of any of the streets around her. _It’s so quiet up here_ , she thought, _not at all like the London I’d pictured, but then again, Lana did say she lived in a nice residential area._

She wandered around for at least forty minutes, passing the same street cleaner three times before he finally took pity on her and helped her find her street. She found herself thinking wistfully of the large lighted green street signs that stood so proudly on every corner back home, never leaving one in doubt of where one was. She was reminded of Buenos Aires when she finally faced the building that housed her apartment. It was a duplex with a brick façade that had seen better days, slightly worn down as it was by time and by rain.

She sighed with anticipation, nerves and exhaustion, hefted her bag to her shoulder once more and trudged up the steps. Once at the door, she realized she had to wake up her roommate anyway--the main door was locked and she didn’t have a key. _At least it’s after eight now_ , she thought. She buzzed their room three times before a groggy voice finally came over the intercom, “Hello?”

“Hello! Lana! It’s me, Mariana! Your new roommate! I’m so sorry to wake you, I don’t have the key though..”

“Right, right it’s totally fine I’m coming down. Gimme a second to put on my robe.” Excitement filled her once more. _My new home.._

She could see Lana as she trudged toward her, clad in light blue slippers and a fluffy white robe, hair tussled and eyes still full of sleep, arms crossed, hugging the robe to her and warding off the cold. She opened the door wide and let Mariana in.

“Welcome to London.” A hint of sarcasm slipped out.

“Ya, thank you! Again, I’m really sorry.”

“That’s okay. I can go back to sleep for a bit anyway.”

“Oh good.”

“We’re on the third floor.” With that she turned and slowly shuffled back the way she’d come. Nervously, Mariana picked up her bag once more and followed her, up the creaky stairs and to another door.

Lana opened it and said, “Here we are!” with a disgruntled tone deserved of such an early awakening.

“Your room is to the left, mine is to the right. Obviously make yourself at home, I’ve left you a few drawers in the bathroom and several cupboards in the kitchen. Here are your keys, large one, front door, small one, this door. I’m going back to bed.”

Lana left her standing in the middle of the living room of the small apartment. She shrugged off her bags and walked over to the window. It faced east. She opened it to reveal London, in all it’s glory, bathed in the first soft rays of the morning and the pink of the pre-dawn glow. She could see the purple lights of the Citibank tower from her window, surrounded as it was by other brightly lit skyscrapers, her own personal nightlights. Awe and appreciation crossed her face. _Now THIS is a real city._ It reminded her of Buenos Aires once again, mainly in how different they both were from Los Angeles. That Great Beast was just a sprawl of humanity, one really couldn’t count it as a “metropolis” the way one could London and BA. Her heart lept with excitement once more, before her tired mind tugged her away to her room. The bed was small, but inviting. She didn’t bother to unpack or undress fully. She kicked off her shoes, threw her coat on the chair, left her jeans in a pile on the floor and climbed into the warm flannel sheets that smelled of a place far different from her own.

 

 


	3. First Impressions

Mariana woke up to the smell of sausage wafting in from the kitchen. It was 12 PM and her roommate was bustling around, making eggs, toast, sausage and potato hash. She lifted her head wearily and noted the clock. Determined to not be jet-lagged for days, she forced her tired body from the warm bed. She shuffled to the bathroom to wash her face, before remembering none of her stuff was in there. With a sigh she trudged back to her room to face the nightmare that would be unpacking. _At least I only brought two bags_ , she thought. She was on her knees, kneeling over the stuffed monstrosity that was her bag, when Lana knocked and poked her head in the open door.

“Hey, I made a lot of food if you want to come have some. Sorry I was so grouchy earlier, you know how it is.”

“Oh ya, no you weren’t grouchy. Thanks, that’s so nice of you.”

“No problem.”

Glad to have an excuse to escape from her unpacking for a bit, Mariana got up and followed Lana back to the kitchen, where the delicious smells enveloped her immediately, “Good lord that smells amazing.”

“Here ya go. Your first English breakfast.”

“Wow! Thank you!”

“My pleasure. Well, I’ve got to get moving. Help yourself. Do you mind if I steal the loo for a shower?”

“Oh not at all.”

“Great.”

The stiffness of their exchange hung in the air even once Mariana was alone. _Could have been worse_ , she thought.

She turned her attention to the breakfast before her and greatfuly tucked in. Wanting to make a good impression, she did the dishes before heading back to her room.

Once washed, she took a closer look at her new home. It was simple, small, utilitarian. Soft, pale blue curtains hung on either side of the large bay window overlooking the City. Under it sat an antique sunbench in a slightly darker shade of blue, a teal almost reminiscent of the ocean. She ran her fingers across the worn fabric. It felt soft, inviting, homely. She lifted the top, several books looking just as worn lay inside. Shakespeare, Kant, Dickens. Jane Austen. Collections of the Greek myths, Old English Folk Tales, the Norse Mythologies, Celtic legends. Several 19th century novels, _Catch 22_ , _the Awakening_ , a couple well-loved country romance novels as well. A _reader_ had filled this chest.

She closed the lid and looked back at the room. The off-white walls were not bare. Rather, several oil paintings, water colors, even a few chalk and charcoal drawings adorned the room. There were nature scenes like the vast English countryside, the dark gray ocean as seen from the shore, as well as still-lifes, such as a horseshoe laying in dappled sunlight, lovingly depicted on a straw-strewn floor, an old saddle surrounding by tack, hanging on a barn wall. Celestial beings were not absent either. The moon’s blue light illuminated several scenes, the Thames reflecting the light of the London Eye, a city park. The sun graced rolling green Irish hillsides. Mariana couldn't help but stare. She wondered if it was Lana who made them before she finally noticed the signature, hiding in the corner of each canvas, unobtrusive and understated, “Lana T.”

"Do you ride?" The question startled Mariana out of her trance. She had been standing in front of the picture of saddle and tack for several minutes.

"Wha- oh me? No. I mean I have but.." she wondered how long Lana had been standing there in naught but one towel wrapped around her body and another around her head, revealing most of her long, lithe body and ivory skin.

Lana smiled. "I miss it. I grew up riding every day out in ___. That's in the country you know."

"Oh..." Mariana mused.. "so you're not from London?"

"No no I'm just here for school, same as everybody else. Not much to do back home as far as entertainment goes.." she trailed off as she tilted her head, studying Mariana as she towelled her hair. "This might be forward of me but... what are you..? I know you’re American but.. your name and your look..."

The wry smile of someone who's been asked many times crossed Mariana’s face.

"I'm a mix of a lot of things.."

Lana looked at her a moment longer and noticed a dark cloud had seemed to cross her face.

"Well it’s a beautiful name. I think it suits you." With that she turned and disappeared into her room, leaving Mariana standing in the living room alone once more.

 

 


	4. Lost

Mariana stood silently a moment more, feeling everything she’d tried to leave behind suddenly catch up with her with Lana’s question. She shook her head to clear it and forced herself to her room where she could busy herself with unpacking and setting up her new room--a task during which she wouldn’t have to think. Thinking could be dangerous.

Finally unpacked, she sat back and admired her work. Her room was still fairly bare, as she hadn’t taken much with her when she left, but it would do. Perhaps she’d find new posters, new photographs with which to decorate her new room. She sighed. _Better get started._ She had three days before her orientation at the Humanities Centre. Time to explore.

Lana had already left by the time Mariana finally showered and dressed. She didn’t take a map with her. No, these three days were days to get lost--completely, utterly, wonderfully lost. Lost in the new world around her. She didn’t dare allow herself to question if that was wise or not.

She threw a bottle of water, her wallet and her disconnected phone into her bag, pulled on her coat and scarf and headed out into the gray afternoon.

She didn’t have any set direction, so she walked until she found the closest underground entrance (the Rotherhithe was the closest at only five minutes away, _of course, I would spend forty minutes walking around when all I had to do was turn left and go straight for five minutes_ , she chided herself)  and went down. She hopped on and rode until she she heard a stop that sounded good. She got off in middle of a the busy shopping district. _Right, Covent Garden_ , _I thought the name sounded familiar... Too many people though_ , she thought. She wandered around for hours, getting farther from the glitz of the West End until the streets became more riddled with potholes, lined with trash and the smell of smoke. People squatted on steps and leaned in doorways. She kept her head down and hopped on the first bus she saw, not bothering to see where it was headed. Time passed quickly and soon she found herself in a different place altogether. It seemed she had left the hubbub behind. The lovely Kensington Gardens whizzed past them and she got off a few stops past it. And wandered up the street until she found herself at another park, this one quieter and a little wilder. She wandered past the football pitch, the formal gardens, the oriental garden with its peacocks until she came to a muddy trail winding through what passed for a forest in the middle of London. The signs said Holland Park. She sat on a bench and watched the sun go down through the trees.

Much time had passed before she realized it. While lost in her own thoughts, the sun had sunk down behind the horizon, its last golden rays retreated from that part of the world and inky blackness took its place, marred only by the soft purple hue of the city lights reflecting on the clouds above. The moon struggled to peak through the clouds and the night animals began to emerge but Mariana still sat, lost in thought.

“This place is lovely at night, isn’t it?” No response from Mariana. “Erm.. ma’am?”

“What?” Quite distracted and finally awoken from her daydream, Mariana whipped her head around and realized someone was speaking to her.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“Ah, yes, I didn’t mean to bother you, I was just saying how lovely it is here at night.. Are you quite alright? I saw you sitting here when I went by earlier to meet a friend and just walking back noticed you were still here...hadn’t moved atall..”

Trying to compose herself, Mariana smiled and replied, “I think time just got away from me. I didn’t mean to be sitting here so long.”

“Right. You’re American, are you?”

“Yes I am.”

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t the fact that you’ve been sitting on a park bench in the dark for three hours that gave you away,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Oh good,” Mariana smiled with sarcasm.

“Now, now, I meant no offense.”

“None taken.” Standing now, Mariana gathered her things and took a better look at the man. He was tall and thin, clad in fitted navy trousers, a white shirt open at the collar, a matching navy vest, a checkered gray scarf and a black overcoat. His hair was light brown and wavy, his face angular and handsome with just a hint of scruff. He looked to be about thirty, with laugh lines etched clearly into his face that in no way detracted from it.

Unsure how to read this stranger, she tried to think of an escape, just in case.

“Have you been in London long?” he asked in a kind voice.

“Just got in yesterday actually,” she replied, still keeping the bench between them.

“Wow, um, and you made your way up here congratulations.”

“And quite by accident really..”

“Really? Do you know how to get home?” Genuine concern showed on his face.

“Um.. I think I could figure it out..” Mariana looked around..

“Okay I’m doing this all wrong. My name is James.” He took a stride toward her and held out his right hand.

“I’m Mariana. Nice to meet you.” Still eyeing him a little warily, she took his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you. Now I know it’s late and you don’t know me, but really, let me at least show you to the right bus and make sure you get on it, it’s the least that I could do for a poor American girl lost in London,” he said with a smile.

She glared at him for that last comment, but couldn’t help but admit to herself that she probably could not find her way home from here on her own. She really didn’t want to get killed in some ghetto on her very first night. But then again… He seemed clean cut and trustworthy but could one ever really know..? She decided to go with her gut.

“I suppose you’re right. I need to get back to ____ street over by Southwark.”

“Hmm.. well I don’t need to go much farther than that. I’ll go with you.” He smiled, a friendly, open smile. She took a chance and they headed off toward the street together.

They took three buses before they were finally close to her house, laughing and talking all the way, not about anything in particular, not about their lives… Rather, about life in general. Things that came to mind. She tried not to be mesmerized by his laugh and his charming accent, tried to avoid his brilliant blue eyes. Their last bus ride ended and they finally got off at ___ Square.

“Well, I’m this way..” James nodded in the direction behind him.

“And I can find my way from here, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Now be safe my American friend.”

“Thank you James. Goodnight.”

“You’re welcome. Goodnight..Mariana.”


	5. Humanities

The next two days passed quickly for Mariana. Before she knew it it was time to meet her fellow graduate students. With the help of Lana, she managed to map out her route to the ___ Centre for the Humanities. Once there, she found her way to the designated conference room. It was a small rectangular room dominated by a large wood table, far too many chairs, and a sad overstuffed bookshelf crammed into the back corner, full of history of texts, books of law and political discourse. Only two people were there already.

One was a thin blonde girl who’s large dark-framed glasses made her wide blue eyes seem just a little too big and out of focus. Her messy blonde hair fell to her shoulders, or rather, a long chunk on either side fell to her shoulders, while the rest only reached her chin. Her bangs were voluminous and had a habit of standing straight up when she tried to brush it back with her fingers, adding to her rather startled look. She was dressed in an overlarge knit sweater, a knee length tribal print skirt, black leggings and worn black combat boots.

The other was a stout man with a mop of dark hair and a permanent frown. His brown eyes were hidden under thick brows and the corners of his mouth turned down. While the girl sat in the edge of her seat and fidgeted, he lounged back in his chair and played with his phone.

Mariana awkwardly pulled out a chair across from them and tried to smile acknowledgement. The girl smiled back revealing graying front teeth that overlapped slightly in the middle. The man didn’t look up. The three of them waited in silence as a few more people trickled in. A black girl with an afro worthy of the seventies and built like a model, a lanky red-headed man, and a Spaniard arrived. Finally, five minutes late, the professor who would be conducting their orientation walked in. She was clad in ankle boots, burgundy tights, a black courderoy skirt, and a fleece jacket. She looked to be about fifty with her brown hair worn straight and reaching her shoulders with bangs cut straight across her forehead.

“Hola chicos! Hola! Sorry I am late..”

A bit frazzled, she pulled out a chair and set her stack of papers on the table.

“Yes so.. Here we are, orientation for new students in the language and literature departments…I am María Hernandez.. let us introduce ourselves.. I teach Spanish, I am from Argentina, I have been here for thirty years now, I have been at the Met for fifteen.”

The red-head was next to her.

“Uh hi, I’m Flynn, I’m from Dublin, I’m studying Gaelic/English linguistics.”

Next was the distracted looking blonde girl.

“Hi…. I’m Lacy…...I’m uh...studying art and literature….in culture…I’m from Surrey..” Her manner of speaking was just as distracting as her appearance. It was as if her brain was too muddled from acid to even form such simple sentences.

Mariana let her mind wander. She had no real interest in who these people were, even though she knew she should pay attention, try to make friends with them. She just couldn’t quite muster up the energy to pretend to be interested in her colleagues’ lives, and these forced “get-to-know eachother” activities always bored her.

Few moments had passed before it was her turn. A little apprehensive to be speaking in front of others, even in such an informal setting as this, she took a breath.

“I’m Mariana, I’m from Los Angeles, I’m here to study Scandinavian and Germanic pagan symbolism in literature and culture.”

Two more introductions followed, but she was already lost in thought, thinking back to the city she left behind. She didn’t miss it. She turned her attention instead to the hopefully fascinating new work that lay ahead of her.

After introductions, María passed out pamphlets that included a map of city with all its buildings and which departments were housed in each. She also passed out a generic, “Welcome to London” brochure and a guide to the metro, along with a print out of the academic calendar for the fall semester.

After what seemed like an eternity to Mariana, they seven of them got up to go on a tour of the building. María showed them the offices of each sub-department, the computer labs, the main lecture halls and various multi-media rooms they might teach in. Last was the café, where they had vouchers to enjoy a pleasant buffet meal. With the addition of food, the new students became much more comfortable and willing to talk to one another. Mariana learned that Flynn was one of five children, the oldest and although his mother wanted him to study law and set a good example for his brothers and sisters and support them all, his true passion was the history of his people. He was a proud Irishman and wanted to do his part to preserve his culture and study the connections between England and Ireland, rather than only their differences. He hoped to go home and teach the young people to be proud of who they were and perhaps become a local leader or politician.

Lacy was just as obnoxious as Mariana presumed from her first impression, if not more so. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was about her that bothered her so, but she was glad when the Spaniard pulled her attention away with a question about modern art and Duchamp.

The tall attractive black girl was named Melanie, and she was far nicer than her good looks might lead one to believe. Rather than the snarky model type who believes she’s far better than everyone around her, she was sweet and quick to smile. She was studying French literature. Her mother was a beautiful French dame, a ballerina for many years. Her father was an Englishman whose grandparents were from Nigeria, and when he saw Melanie’s mother in a production as a young man he fell immediately in love with her and after dropping everything to stay and court her, he brought her back to England with him, where their three children were born. Melanie had a lovely laugh, and Mariana found herself admiring her, even liking her despite her natural instinct to despise beautiful people who were also charismatic, having an innate distrust of such people.

Mariana found herself laughing with them all, somehow even making them laugh despite, or because of, her own tendency toward sarcasm and cynicism, something people always seem to take for merely joking, even when she’s not. It’s just the nature of most people. Most like to assume the best in others. They assume when someone says something rude or insensitive, they’re only joking, there’s no malintent, they don’t really _mean_ it. This is the true freedom of the sarcastic person. A sarcastic person can say anything, anything at all, and no one will take him seriously. They all brush it off, saying, oh that’s just how he is, he doesn’t mean it, when really, he does. He means it with all his heart.

But people are far too kind to believe such a thing. And when someone really is blunt, and they say their mind, people may find it insulting, but at the same time they find it refreshing, because they know, deep down, they wish they could be as free with their thoughts and opinions as the blunt person is every day of his life. What _really_ gets people though is the fact that the blunt person, the person who has no filter, does have a filter. Mariana was always surprised when friends would tell her, laughing, you just have no filter, you say whatever you’re thinking. She would think to herself, that’s not true at all! I wouldn’t be allowed out in public if I said everything I ever thought. People are just far too kind to think their fellows would have such cruel thoughts at all.

After about an hour, they parted ways, thanked María for their tour and Mariana headed off to the computer lab to schedule her classes. She would be one of very few in most of them, and others consisted mainly of her finding all the pertinent books in the library and reading them all. Good thing she couldn’t get enough, ever since she first read the collection of Norse myths as an undergrad back in the United States. What had started out as a hobby turned into a kind of obsession, and interest that could never be sated. She felt the inexplicably need to learn more and more. Society and anthropology had always interested her, and the more she learned about Europe’s pagan past and the connections between tribes, between past and present, myth and religion, the more she felt the pull to actually move there. When all hell broke loose last winter, she no longer had a reason not to.


	6. Revelation

Orientation day seemed longer even than the day she wandered until midnight, despite it only lasting six hours. Exhausted, she trudged up the three flights of stairs and opened the door to the apartment and was met with the delicious smell of popcorn and Lana was in the living room, setting up the TV to watch a show.

“Hey! Fun first day?” Lana asked with a teasing smile.

“Eh. Could have been worse. Why, do I look as exhausted as I feel?”

“Just a bit. Why don’t you take a load off and watch a show with me? There’s plenty of popcorn.”

“Whatcha watching?” Mariana wearily dropped her bag on the couch and shrugged off her coat.

“Just a kind of sitcom. It’s pretty good actually.”

“Sure.” Mariana plopped down on the couch and gratefully accepted the popcorn Lana handed her.

“Oh and one more thing, because it’s a Monday…” Lana ran to the kitchen and held up a bottle of merlot.

“Care for a glass?”

“Yes please!” Mariana replied enthusiastically. “Listening to people ramble on and on about how great their department is and how much better they are than everyone else is draining a body.”

“Indeed,” Lana handed her a glass.

“Thank you.”

“Alright, so here’s what you need to know about the show… Linda is the main girl, Ron is her boyfriend….” Mariana let Lana’s voice wash over her and fill her head with trivial things about the show, releasing all the tension brought on by a day filled with meetings, greetings and first impressions.

After that they made a habit out of their weekly Monday show watching, wine drinking, roommate bonding session. The two of them never had a shortage of laughs, and otherwise they didn’t see eachother so often. Mariana spent most of her nights in the library, more and more so as the semester progressed, while Lana spent a lot of her time either on her media arts projects or partying with friends. Some weekends though, Lana reserved for the outdoors. She loved hiking, running, climbing, and of course, did it all with her camera in hand. One Sunday in late October, before the snow had begun to fall, she invited Mariana out with her.

They drove northeast, past the city limits, past the suburbs, past the rural farmhouses, past the open fields, until they reached the Epping Forest. Only forty minutes away was a haven of nature. The two of them left the car and hiked up a well-used trail, deep into the forest where the trees absorbed all sound, all there was to be heard was the sound of their breathing and their footsteps on the thick loam of the forest floor. Only dappled sunlight made its way through to caress their faces.

After about an hour, they reached a mountain spring and stopped to rest.

Mariana walked over to the spring and reached in to feel the cool clean water run over her hands. She sat back on her heels and sighed, “Oh how I’ve missed this.”

“Missed what?” Lana asked.

“This. Nature. Being one with nature.”

“Yes, it is rather lovely..”

“It’s more than lovely. It’s everything. It’s life. It’s divine.”

“You sound like a pagan.” Lana said, with no derision in her voice.

“Do I?” Mariana chuckled. “That’s probably because I am.”

“You are?” Lana asked, slightly curious.

“Yes. It’s actually a large part of why I’m here in England in the first place….”

Lana was seated on a rock with an expectant look on her face.

“Do you really want to hear it? My pathetic life story?” Mariana asked, with a tone of self-deprecation.

“I’ve got no where to be.” Lana smiled.

Mariana stood up and turned away.

“Well alright…You’re going to think I’m crazy.” She took a deep breath.

“When I was eleven years old I had a humanities teacher who loved mythology. We read lots of stuff from all over the world and all of it interested me. She tried to expose us to a bit of everything, judeo-christian texts, Buddist texts, hindu, pre-christian europe, Native American myths... My teacher saw my interest and my talent for imagination and thought I would enjoy the kind of pagan “sunday school” if you will,  that her daughter went to. I had gone to Sunday school before and found the Bible very interesting, but it was really the mystical elements that interested me the most. I knew my mom would never approve so I just told her it was an after school thing, which, conveniently enough, it was, so I participated in that for several years…”

Her voice trailed off. She stared off into the distance as if recalling a distant time and place.

“When I was fifteen I was able to participate more freely since I was older and had more freedom.. I studied a lot on my own and read lots of books about modern paganism, druidism, shamanism, etc. Shamanism resonated with me most strongly. I worked on meditation and studied herbal medicine. I kept careful records of the rituals we would do, the prayers I would say and dreams I would have and try to interpret them. I discovered my totem and learned to work with it. I tried to study my surroundings and learn what was normal and what stood out, so I might know when Nature was trying to tell me something. I studied under a very wise shaman in our group who often lead others on trips into the Other World…”

Excitement and pride began to creep into Mariana’s voice now. As she spoke the tempo increased.

“When I was eighteen, I was finally allowed to go with them. After a couple years, I began to notice my dreams took on more clarity, more significance. My mediations proved more fruitful and more enlightening. I felt intuned with my environment and began to train new members in the group. I began particularly good at guiding people in their first meditations into their own subconscious, the first connection one makes with the Other World. I helped young people find their totems. I began to take on a more active role during ritual and when interacting with the Other World. I gradually began to be the strongest force when we travelled to the Other World, I began to lead our collective minds. In short, I became the most powerful shamaness in our group. People started coming to me for help, for inspiration and wisdom, even though I’m only twenty-four. It didn’t matter. I was trusted. The elders who trained me and tested me approved of and sanctioned my skills.”

Her face darkened and the excitement and pride turned to betrayal and anger.

“Then everything changed. About six months ago, the other leaders in our group began to complain that when we went to the Other World, a _negative aura_ (said with some derision) followed me and clung to me. As time passed they began to complain that they could even feel it during ritual and when we worked spells. They said it was like a dark cloud that followed me all the time. They no longer allowed me to teach the new members, they told people my words and visions could no longer be trusted. I felt no such dark cloud. I meditated on it and found nothing. I asked my totem to help me search, but I was unsuccessful. I decided I would have to leave, so I applied to the university here so I would have a reason and a means of support when I left.”

Resignation and sadness filled her voice.

“Then in July, they went to the Other World without me. They told me one of them had a terrible vision that came to them in his dreams. He said that he dreamt I stabbed him, murdered him in cold blood. The group, blinded by fear and their herd-like mentality, banished me. They cast me out like garbage. I came home that night and my mother was waiting for me. She had found my records of years of practicing my spirituality. She was always a bit unstable to begin with, since my father abandoned us when I was a baby, and had since turned to religion, the religion she was raised with.”

Her voice had turned flat and numb.

“Which was?” Lana asked, hesitantly.

“Catholicism.”

“What did she do?” Apprehension was obvious in her face now.

Mariana finally turned back to Lana, looked her in the eye and in a flat voice, she said,

“She tried to kill me.”

Silence. Oppressive silence. Lana’s eyes widened but she didn’t say a word. The thoughts of both turned inwards. Mariana turned away, she didn’t want to face Lana’s judgement and horrified face. She knew she shouldn’t have told her. Some things are best kept to one’s self…

Suddenly she felt a pair of slender arms reached around and clasped themselves in front of her and a soft voice in her ear…

“It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Mariana felt a tear trickle down her face, then the dam broke and all her pain gushed out. Lana turned her around and held her, patted her back and cooed softly as she cried herself dry. Finally, the tide of tears ebbed and Mariana let go of Lana and looked up, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“I’m so sorry.. I’ve just been trying to keep it out of my mind and…”

“I know. It’s okay. You just have to get it out. That’s what friends are for. To hold you and let you cry.” Lana smiled sadly at her.

Mariana hadn’t realized how much she needed friends, people to care for her. In just a day she had her whole life ripped from her, she didn’t dare think she’d find anyone else.

Lana put her arm around Mariana’s shoulders and said, “Come on. Let’s go home. You can take a nice bath and you’ll feel better. The worst is already behind you.”

Mariana just nodded, and they headed back down the mountain.

 

 


	7. Coaxing

The two of them were sitting on the couch, freshly washed and eating dinner that Lana had made. Mariana wasn’t really eating, rather she was just pushing her food around her plate. Lana looked at her and sighed. She decided Mariana needed a distraction. She got up and took their plates away, then came back to the living room, gathered up a new canvas and her paints and sat on the floor in front of Mariana.

“What should I paint?” She asked in what she hoped was an upbeat tone.

Mariana didn’t look up.

“Come on. What should I paint?” she asked once more, this time shaking her arm.

Mariana finally met Lana’s eyes. They were big and blue and beautiful. Lana smiled a radiant smile. “I’m going to paint something pretty for you. Come sit with me.”

Reluctantly, Mariana got down on the floor next to her and leaned against the bottom of the couch. Then Lana began to paint. There was nothing more engrossing to Mariana than watching Lana paint. The way the brush moved across the canvas, as if it were nothing more than an extension of Lana’s own hand, mesmerized her. The strokes were so sure, so precise, the images seemed to flow unbroken from her mind to the canvas.

Mariana found herself watching the painter almost as much as the painting. The way Lana narrowed her eyes just a bit, as she concentrated on making just the right stroke here, just a dab there. She’d tilt her head to the side, as if trying to see the painting more clearly. Or she’d let her eyes unfocus, as if letting the image in her mind and the image on the page overlap, and so revealing what she needed to do to make them one and the same. Just the act of painting was beautiful to Mariana. It was magic in its truest form, making something where before, there was nothing. Magic was nothing to Mariana if not creation. And art was at its basest, creation.

It wasn’t long before the subject of Lana’s painting began to take shape. At first it was just an arc, which became the curve of a long, graceful neck. Then it was the gentle slope down to a valley which became the back, which rounded down into powerful hindquarters that ended in a magnificent, flowing black tail. With gentle strokes, Lana coaxed the beautiful stallion out of the page. He came gradually. It was as if she were an archaeologist, excavating him in layers from the chalk of the white page. He became clearer and clearer as the moments passed, with more and more details bringing him into focus.

The last things to arrive were his eyes. His dark, deep, black liquid eyes. With those eyes, the last finishing touch, Lana brought him to life. He started deep into Mariana’s soul with a gaze that seemed wise and all-knowing, somehow older than time itself. She found herself wishing she could reach out and touch him, to caress that soft nose, to brush the dark coarse mane out of his eyes, to feel her hand run across his rich brown coat, to feel the blood rushing through his veins, just under the surface, to feel his great large heart beating and the warmth under her fingertips. At last Lana sat back, admiring her work. She looked over at Mariana and appreciated the effect it had on her. She had accomplished her aim. Her beautiful horse had put Mariana under his spell.

“Would you like a horse like this?” Lana asked at last.

“I would love one..” Mariana replied, a little breathlessly, still entranced by the horse’s gaze.

Lana’s lips curled up in a smile.

 

 


	8. Fancy

The first fall had yet to fall and Summer was making one last final surge before it finally retreated and gave Winter his due. The day was brisk and warm and Mariana sat at an outside table at a favorite café with Melanie and Flynn, discussing the advancements they’d made in their respective work and how their first semester was shaping up to be.

Mariana was just explaining to them about a new site an archaeological team had found in Sweden that she would get to have access to for her work when she heard a man’s voice calling her name.

“Mariana!”

She looked round and there coming towards her was a man who had never been far from

her mind since he first dropped into her life so unexpectedly.

“James!” Her eyes widen in surprise and her mouth fell open which quickly changed to a truly happy smile.

“Mariana darling, how are you?” The tall man reached down to clasp her hand is his and

beamed at her.

“I’m doing great! And you?”

“Splendid, splendid.”

“Uh, these are some of my colleagues, Melanie and Flynn, meet my friend James.”

“Pleasure,” said James, ever the gentleman, he nodded to them. Then he turned his

attention back to Mariana.

“Listen darling, I have to get going, but I would love to see you again soon.” He smiled one of his charming smiles and gave her hand a squeeze.

“Yes! I’d love to. I don’t have your number..”

“Ah of course. Here’s my card.” He smiled at her once more, nodded to Melanie and Flynn and Mariana watched his long slim legs carry him away.

Mariana turned back to her friends and found Melanie was smiling at her with an eyebrow raised.

“Well just who was _that_ handsome devil?” she said with a smirk.

“What? I met him on my first day here… I was lost and he helped me get back to the City..” she didn’t know why she felt slightly defensive…

“And you don’t fancy him! Look at that man.. That was a handsome man wasn’t he Flynn?”

“What? Oh I guess…” Flynn look confused and lost about the whole thing.

“I don’t even know him Melanie.” Mariana replied.

Melanie crossed her arms, leaned back in her chair and smirked.

“No matter.”

Mariana rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her tea, but in a secret part of her mind, she wondered if perhaps Melanie was right.

 

 


	9. Destiny

When Mariana returned home Lana was lounging on the couch, reading one of her favorite novels. She looked up when Mariana walked in. She noticed a strange expression on her face.

“What’s got into you?” Lana asked.

“What? Nothing..” Mariana looked around, distracted.

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” Lana raised an eyebrow skeptically.

Suddenly, Mariana looked up and directly at Lana.

“I saw James today.”

“James?”

“The man that helped me get home when I was lost in the park… my first night here…”

“Ya..”

“I don’t know… He’s so handsome and charming… He gave me his card and said we should get together some time…”

“And what’s the problem?” Lana said, laughing now.

“Well I don’t know him! Why did he happen upon me in the park? How did he just happen to be walking by when I was at the café?” Mariana was almost agitated now, as thirsty as she was for answers and understanding.

“Why are you so concerned? It was chance.”

“I don’t know if I really believe in chance. If there’s anything magic has taught me is that very little, if anything, is due to chance.”

“Maybe it’s _destiny_ ,” Lana said with a smile and a flourish of her hands.

“Oh shut up.” Mariana said, mock-annoyed, and threw her coat on her.

She threw the coat off herself and replied,

“Well I think you should call him! Or text him whatever. He gave you his number! He obviously wants you to talk to him.”

Still skeptical, Mariana raised her eyebrow.

“I’m not so sure.”

Then she lowered her eyes. “It’s so hard to trust people…”

Lana had gotten up and walked over to Mariana and put her slender hands on her shoulders, gently gripping them she looked into Mariana’s eyes.

“I know. But you have to. It’s part of life.”

Deep down Mariana knew Lana was right, and although she couldn’t admit it to Lana, the real reason she was disconcerted was not because she didn’t think James might like her, but rather she couldn’t brush off her inexplicable feeling of being drawn to him, and she wasn’t sure she liked it.

 

 


	10. Out of Your Depth

Mariana was sitting at her desk in her room, pouring over books and journal articles for her most recent investigation. It was 9 PM on a Friday night and Lana knocked at her door. She was too engrossed to notice it. A second knock, this time harder. Nothing. Finally Lana poked her head in.

“Mariana!”

As of yet still unaware Lana was trying to talk to her, she started at the sound of her name. She spun around with a startled look on her face and pencil still in hand.

“What?!”

“Why the bloody hell are you doing work on a Friday night??”

“I have work to do!” Mariana cried defensively.

“To hell you do. You’re coming out with me tonight I don’t care what you say.”

“Come onnnnnn I don’t want to,” Mariana protested.

“You’re being a granny for Christ’s sake. You’re coming out with me. End of story.” With a stern look Lana shut the door and called back, “I expect you ready in an hour!”

With a sigh, Mariana shut her books and headed off to the shower. Once showered, she stood in her towel in front of her closet and complained to Lana,

“I don’t have anything to wear!”

“You can wear something of mine.”

Mariana couldn’t help but stare. She looked gorgeous. She had her long blonde hair done in loose waves, large blue eyes accentuated by dark mascara and a brown smokey eye, perfect lips just with a hint of color and shine. She was wearing a form-fitting silver metallic dress that stopped mid-thigh and was held up by thin straps. Mariana thought she looked simply stunning.

“What?” Lana asked. Mariana realized she had been starting with her mouth gaping open.

“You look amazing! I can’t go out with you, I’ll look hideous next to you.”

“Nonsense. We’ll get you all fixed up.” With that, Lana got to work. She picked out one of her outfits for Mariana to wear. It was a beautiful little black dress with thick velvet straps like panels that ended just below the breast, leaving a space of regular fabric between them. The rest was a slightly stretchy black that accentuated Mariana’s curves. She dressed her eyes with subtle mauve shadow to play up the green and tinted her lips dark red. Lastly, she arranged her wavy hair in a messy up-do, showing off her neck and jaw.

At last they were done. Lana dragged Mariana to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. She poured out four shots and handed two to Mariana.

“Are you crazy??” Mariana asked her, incredulously.

Lana just smiled.

“Bottoms up, darling.”

Finally, the girls headed out into the night.

“Come on, I know of a really fun club over on _____.” Lana excitedly led the way and

Mariana tried to keep up, as she’d had much less practice walking in high heels than Lana had. Mariana could hear the music before she saw the place. There was a huge crowd of people standing out front smoking and talking. Lana, holding her hand, led her through the throng and to the door. Mariana couldn’t hear a thing of what she said but somehow the bouncer let them through and they entered into a world of pulsating music, gyrating bodies, bright lights and fog. The drinks kept coming and the music kept playing and soon the night turned into a blur of colors, sounds, movement and Lana’s warm body next to her.

Mariana had no idea how much time had passed when they stumbled out of the club and onto the sidewalk. Both were completely deaf from the music and drunk from all the free drinks that kept coming their way. Lana, much more familiar with their surroundings, grabbed her hand once more and, carrying their heels, the girls made their way back home.

Laughing, the two of them struggled up the stairs and to their front door. After dropping the keys a couple times, they finally managed to get into their apartment and collapse in a heap on the couch. Somehow Mariana found herself sitting between Lana’s legs, leaning back on her chest. Lana’s arms felt warm and comforting wrapped around her. Mariana sighed and cuddled closer, feeling safe and secure and cared for.

She felt Lana’s soft lips land in a gentle kiss on top of her head. She smiled and tilted her head back, gazing contentedly into Lana’s deep blue eyes. They seemed to change in the moonlight that streamed in through their window. First they were dark blue, then green, then the rich teal of the ocean, sparkling with flecks of gold. Mariana was lost in those eyes, held by their hypnotizing gaze as Lana slowly lowered her lips to Mariana’s own, and pressed them ever so gently, so gently, Mariana almost couldn’t tell if they were touching, her response was instinctual and instant. She pressed up, forcing their lips to meet with more pressure and she felt Lana’s arms tightened around her body. She didn’t know what she was doing, but her body responded. She turned slightly so she lay on her side, face to face with Lana and this time, she reached up to stroke her face and pull her in close for another kiss. Tender, so tender was it, it was as if neither wanted to scare the other away, neither wanted to risk breaking such a delicate moment. Lana kissed her cheek, her nose, then her forehead, and finally drunken sleep overcame them. Mariana drifted off the ghost of Lana’s kiss on her lips and with Lana’s words still hanging in her ears, “sleep well my darling.”

 

 


	11. Leap of Faith

The girls awoke in a bundle of blankets on the couch. Mariana couldn’t quite remember all of the night’s events. She woke up out of a dream so vivid, she thought maybe it was real. She looked at Lana laying with her head on the other end of the couch. _Could that have happened…?_ she thought. The memory felt real to her, but as if within the fog of a dream. She couldn’t decide, and didn’t really think she should ask. She lay her pounding head back down with a groan and fell back asleep.

By the time the two finally roused it was afternoon. Groggy and with pounding heads, they both wearily dragged themselves to the kitchen for coffee and toast and sat eating and drinking in silence, both too tired to think or speak.

As is typical of people after a night of heavy drinking and dancing, the two barely moved from the couch all day. The sun was setting by the time either of them felt up to the great task of showering. They each took their turn and then were back on the couch again, eating some pasta Lana had wisely whipped up.

“So,” Lana started, “what are your plans for tonight?”

Mariana looked at her with an incredulous expression on her face.

“Are you crazy? You think I’m going somewhere after last night?”

Lana laughed. “You have some serious improving to do in your weekend-partying department. I think I’m going out with the girls from work tonight. You should text that James guy.” Lana winked at her. “If you’re not going to get up off this couch maybe you can convince him to join you on it.” Lana nudged her side with her elbow, still winking like a fool.

“You’re an idiot. I’m not doing that.” Mariana scowled.

“Well you should! Don’t blame me when you have a rotten weekend.” With that she got up and started getting dressed to go out. Mariana was still sitting on the couch eating pasta when Lana came out, all dressed up and ready to go.

“Well have fun. I’m off!” Lana said cheerily and headed out the door.

Mariana couldn’t help but be impressed with Lana’s ability to rally. Then she thought about what she had said: “you should text that James..” _So does that mean that I dreamt that last night? She didn’t kiss me?_ Mariana was confused.. _But there had been no malice present in her voice when she said it, so it must be okay with her either way. Of course it’d be okay with her, why wouldn’t it be?_ Mariana found herself asking. She shook her head to clear it of her confusing thoughts. _Maybe I will text him… there’s something about him that makes him so alluring… I guess I really can’t deny that I’m attracted to him… oh what the hell._ She pulled out her phone and the business card from her wallet and carefully added him to her phone, which is when it dawned on her that up until then she had had no idea what his last name was.

Now to decide what to say… She didn’t want to sound too interested, she wasn’t even sure after all what this could all lead to, especially if she was dreaming about kissing Lana, which could mean all sorts of things. She’d have to meditate on it later she told herself. _Concentrate_ , she told herself. She decided to be neutral, friendly and simple.

“Hey James, it’s Mariana!” She didn’t want to overthink it, so she quickly hit send. Anxiously she waited as the moments passed. She couldn’t understand why she felt so nervous. She hadn’t felt this way about a man since she was in high school, scared because he might not like her. She felt immensely silly and decided to put it out of her mind and just relax. She told herself it was no big deal and settled into the couch with a book.

Few minutes had passed before she heard the buzz of her phone on the table beside her. It was James.

“Mariana! How are you?” the text read.

“I’m great, just relaxing after a wild night out last night. ha. You?” Mariana wrote.

“Haha didn’t get into too much trouble did we?”

“Haha no not too much.”

“Then perhaps you’d like to get into trouble tonight? ; ) ” came the reply.

Mariana didn’t know what to say… She remembered clearly his teasing voice but.. what exactly was his idea of “trouble” she wondered. And what of the winky-face? she asked herself. _Best respond in kind_ , she thought at last.

“What did you have in mind? ; ) ” she sent.

“I know a great place in the bar district. Live music all night. Happy hour starts in two hours then there’s pub crawls all night. Sound good?”

“Sure.”

“Do you know where ____Street and ____Avenue are?”

“Ya”

“Alright darling I’ll meet you there at 10?”

“Sounds good!”

“Great. See you soon. ; ) ”

Mariana sat back in the couch and put the phone down. She didn’t know why she should feel so nervous. She had an hour to get ready, so she changed into something cute but versatile. She didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard, but she still wanted to look good. _This is why I don’t bloody date_ she thought. _It requires far too much effort._ She dressed in a pair of tight jeans and black boots, a simple white racer-back tanktop and a black fitted jacket. she did her hair in loose waves and put on mascara and eyeliner. _Ready to go_. She headed down to the intersection where they were too meet, but didn’t want to be the first one to stand there. She tried to scope it out from afar, to see if he was already standing on one of the corners. Suddenly she heard from behind her,

“Whatcha lookin for?”

She jumped and spun around to see James, standing there roguishly smiling at her. He was clad in tight black pants, a soft gray cotton t-shirt and a fitted black leather jacket with the collar turned up. She hit him lightly on the arm.

“You ass! You scared me half to death!” she said in anger, half mocking and half real.

“Ehehehehe. I’m sorry I couldn’t resist. What no hug?” He held his arms out, smiling that devilishly handsome smile.

“Oh alright.” Mariana conceded and gave him a light hug.

“All better now?” James released the hug but kept on arm around her shoulders.

“Yes I suppose. So where are we going?”

James smiled and lead the way down to the bar. One wouldn’t even notice it if they weren’t looking for it. It was just a staircase that led down from the sidewalk to a door with the name, Monks, above it. James nodded to the bouncer and he let them in. Mariana couldn’t help but admire the east with which he moved through the streets, the crowds, the social situations in which she herself had never felt such comfort. Confidence radiated off this magnificent man. She couldn’t help but be impressed with him, his suavity. However, she refused to be revealed as a swooning girl, no, she would play it cool with this older man.

They weaved their way through the people and tables to an empty one a bit back from the stage, nestled in a corner but with a good view of the place. James held out her hair and leaned over her once she sat down, and asked, “what you would like to drink darling?”

“A whisky-coke please.” she replied and watched him saunter off to the bar.

She looked around the place. It had character, definitely. The walls were brick and covered in album covers, the tables were round and wood, rough-hewed and worn smooth from use. The stage was low and cluttered with instruments and equipment. The ceiling was low and painted black. She met James’ eyes as he returned, carrying two drinks, and they smiled at eachother.

“Here you are m’lady.” He said, setting her drink in front of her.

“Thank you good sir,” she responded in the same tone of jest.

“So,” she continued, “what exactly do they play here?”

“Oh, all kinds. You’ve got your modern jazz, folky kind of stuff, rock, alternative, a bit of everything really.”

“Cool. Sounds good.” She smiled, cool, a bit reserved.

“You better lighten up or I might just have to drag you out on the floor for a dance.” He said with a teasing smile.

She laughed, “So why did you decide to give me your number and invite me out here tonight?” she asked, still smiling at the man.

“Well, you interest me.” He looked more serious now, contemplative.

“I do?” she asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“Yes, and don’t I interest you?” he asked, leaning forward now, arms leaning on the table, closing the space between them.

Mariana tried to keep her face expressionless.

“Well yes, you do.”

James leaned back then, smiling, looking satisfied with himself.

“Well then, I think the band is about to start.” Smiling, he turned to face the stage.

The two of them whiled the night away, laughing, drinking, talking and listening to the band. James was true to his word. A particularly lively song came on and he dragged Mariana out for a dance. It was half swing, half square-dance and Mariana tried her best to keep up. It didn’t matter, it was great fun, being swung around the dance floor by the handsome James and watching his prancing, sure-footed steps. They danced for what seemed like hours and yet no time at all, then James was pulling her back out onto the street, laughing and leading her to the next bar. They went to several more, each just as colorful and full of character as the last. The sun was just beginning to light up the London skyline when James and Mariana made their way back to her apartment, arms linked. They stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

He turned to her, holding her hands in his.

“Thank you for a lovely evening.” He said with sincerity in his voice.

“No, thank you,” Mariana said, squeezing his hands in return.

“I must bid you adieu m’lady,” half mocking and half serious in his show of gentility, he lifted her hand to kiss it.

“Must you…” she half whispered, leaning in ever so slightly.

“I must,” and he leaned close and planted the softest of all kisses on her lips, and held it for just a moment. Somehow, the kiss felt familiar to Mariana. And with that, he let go of her hands and disappeared off into the pre-dawn darkness.


	12. Obscured

That night, Mariana dreamt of James. Usually, Mariana’s dreams were vivid and filled with symbols and meanings, representations of her daily life thrown into a different light. If she was seeking something, she would meditate on it before sleeping and ask the Great Earth Mother to reveal to her through her dreams that which was hidden to her. Then her dreams often took on even greater clarity, forming metaphors which helped her piece together the answer to her question. This dream was not like those typical dreams. It was not vivid and coherent, rather it was like seeing snapshots, tiny windows into time. Nothing was clear, and it disturbed her. She saw the runes again, but this time, a man was working the magic, whereas before she only ever envisioned the symbols, glowing on a stone. This time, a tall dark man was performing the spells and saying the runes, but she couldn’t hear him. It was as if she was underwater. She felt like she was drowning, immobile, helpless, sinking to the bottom of a deep blue void, then a slender white hand gripped her wrist, and she was pulled to the surface where a beautiful, shining, smiling James was waiting for her. His blue eyes were full of light and he said two words: “my love.”

Mariana awoke still wrapped in those feelings of happiness and warmth, but out of habit began quickly recalling the rest of her dream, which left her with strange questions. She never liked the feelings of being unable to move in dreams, the sensation of moving through mud with limbs that refused to obey her. She decided to meditate on this dream and search for meaning. She decided to set up a ritual that might help her discern more about James at the same time. He seemed like such an enigma to her and she wanted to figure out why he drew her in so.

She went over to the smaller of the two desks in her room. This one was under the window and was covered in a beautiful woven cloth and held incense, a bundle of dry sage, matches, a bottle of wine for offerings, several small painted ceramic cups, and several small fetishes. One was of the Earth Mother, styled after those found from prehistoric times of an ample, motherly woman’s body, one of the great Lion, her totem, and several others she had found that had spoken to her. She opened the window to let out the smoke and sat down in front of the table. She pulled out a large shallow bowl and a bottle of water.

“With this water I purify myself,” she said as she washed her hands over the bowl.

Then she lit the sage and stood it up in a holder.

“Let this smoke carry my words to you, the Earth Mother, my totem, the Great Spirit of the Lion, wherever you are in the Other World. Please assist me in my work and help me find the answers that I seek.” With that said, she began to breathe deeply, to let her thoughts subdue and melt away, until she was left with just her mind, empty and open. She continued to relax, slowly and carefully feeling her way through her conscious mind down to the subconscious, through that great doorway into the Other World, into the matter through which we are all connected. There she began to seek answers to her dream and the puzzle that was James.

She saw the runes, this time as being guarded from her, held and protected by someone, a faceless, formless someone. She felt a presence with her in the In-Between Realm, in the connective tissue of the world, but she could neither see nor hear him/her. Usually, at the very least she could feel the maleness or femaleness of the person with her, as everyone is a mix of the two to varying degrees, usually one is dominant. This had never happened to her before, she wondered at the obviously superior magic this being possessed that allowed him/her to hide him/herself from her.

She tried to search for James, to get a better sense of his aura, his soul. But she could not. She found he was hidden from her as well. She searched and searched, going over memories of him, trying to find his being. She finally found him. He seemed to be somehow connected to the one with the runes. She sensed many layers to him, she was able to sense an innate playfulness, that teasing streak ran deep and strong in him, had it not been such a core part of him she felt sure she would not have sensed it with him so hidden. She also sensed something else, or rather, the _lack_ of something else. He seemed, in a way, broken, missing a part. She could see nothing else for she was thrown back into her conscious mind, disoriented and surprised. There was a very powerful person involved around James, _but who was it?_

 

 


	13. Chance

A couple weeks passed and suddenly it was Samhain, or Halloween as most people recognized it. Mariana still hadn’t looked for or discovered a new group with which to associate for ritual and holidays, so she decided to celebrate it herself, at home, with just a simple ceremony dedicated to the Earth Mother and representing the symbolic death of the “Corn King” (the harvest) so that the people might eat and survive during the winter. She did this at sunset, and later Lana came home.

“Mariana! What’re you doing tonight?” she asked, full of excitement.

Mariana raised an eyebrow at her rambunctious roommate.

“Nothing yet, what are you so happy about?”

“There’s a great costume party tonight and you and I are going,” she said, whirling into her room to put on her costume.

“But I don’t have anything to wear!” Mariana shouted from the living room.

“No matter! You can wear something of mine! Come here!” she called.

Mariana sighed. She should have expected Lana to drag her out to some party tonight. To be fair, she always did have much more fun out with her than she would sitting in the house reading. Resigned, Mariana walked into Lana’s bedroom and stood in front of her closest. Lana, as usual, was in a state of undress, wearing nothing more than a thong and bra. Mariana couldn’t help but admire her long, lithe frame. She tore her eyes away before Lana turned around, holding up a sequined corset and long black skirt that was almost tiered.

“You can paint your face like Dia de los Muertos,” Lana suggested proudly.

“Humph.. How do you know about Dia de los Muertos?” she asked, amused.

“I’m not _completely_ ignorant of other cultures, I’m not _American_ you know,” Lana teased.

“Veryyyy funny,” Mariana replied, taking the clothes.

“You’re not just suggesting this because I’m Hispanic and I do this every year are you?” Mariana asked as she started to strip down.

Lana rolled her eyes at her. “Don’t be silly,” she replied as she began putting on a spangly outfit of her own.

Mariana went to the bathroom and got out her face paints. She had to admit she liked the idea of representing a piece of her culture, as far away from it as she was and despite the fact Dia de los Muertos was actually November 2nd, but these Brits wouldn’t know the difference. Lana soon joined her in the bathroom wearing a form-fitting sparkly silver dress.

“And just what are you?” Mariana asked, raising an eyebrow. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you! I’m uh… an angel?”

“Ha!” Mariana laughed, “Sure you are.”

“Hey!” Lana protested and lightly hit her on the arm.

“Well you are certainly beautiful enough to be an angel,” Mariana said, smiling sweetly.

“Aw thank you. You’re too sweet,” Lana replied as she began putting on makeup to make those gorgeous blue eyes shine even brighter.

Finally ready, the girls headed out into the night, Lana leading the way. They headed down to catch the underground.

“Is it a house party or at a club or something.?” Mariana asked as she held onto the rail, trying to not feel self-conscious from all the stares she was receiving. She supposed she should be used to it by now. Even in LA there would be people staring at her in her facepaint and “Mexican” clothing on Halloween and Dia de los Muertos. Lana was receiving her fair share of stares as well. _She really is gorgeous,_ Mariana thought to herself, admiring her roommate’s long graceful arms, soft porcelain skin, tiny waist and impossibly long legs. Her hair fell in golden waves down her back and Mariana found herself wishing she could brush back the curtain of soft hair to reveal her graceful neck. She was brought back to reality when Lana replied.

“It’s at a club. Lots of people will be there don’t worry.”

Mariana was starting to get excited. It wasn’t that she didn’t like going out at all, she just wasn’t usually one to decide she _wanted_ to go out. Once it was decided however, she was often happy to and had fun. Lana was the instigator here. She wondered what James was up to. She had been so busy the past few weeks with her research she hadn’t had much time to think about him. Sometimes she still had strange dreams involving him but they were so fleeting, she didn’t pause too long to think of them.

Before long they were at the club, and just as Lana had promised, it was _full to the brim_ of people: girls in revealing costumes, men in revealing costumes, people in ironic costumes, clever costumes, cute costumes, and everything in between. She suddenly no longer felt out of place, although the underground did have a good number of people in costumes as well. The two girls weaved their way through the throng of people and before long Lana had spotted someone across the room and snaked away from Mariana, leaving her stranded in a sea of people. Suddenly a new song came one, evidently a popular synthetic-beat type one, and the sea started undulating anew. Mariana felt like she was caught in a big wave and was forced to dance along, moving with the crowd. After no time at all she was covered in sweat, hers and that of others, until finally the song ended and she managed to slowly edge her way out of the middle of the crowd, another song was just about to start and the crowd started moving again and Mariana thought she’d get stuck in it again when a long, slender hand took a firm grip on her upper arm and pulled her out of the crowd. Exclaiming her thanks, she looked up to see who her rescuer was and recognized the devilish smile before he even took off the mask that covered the upper part of his face.

“James!” Mariana exclaimed, genuine excitement and surprise in her voice.

“Mariana, my dear, got a bit stuck did we?” he asked, laughing.

“Yes! I was with Lana, my roommate and she just ran off, leaving me there..”

He put an arm around her shoulders. “Yes, that does happen sometimes. Want to get some air?” he asked, kindly.

“Sure.. So what are the odds? Are you stalking me..?” Mariana asked, jokingly.

“Ehehe no darling, I wouldn’t do that,” he said leaning down to kiss her lips ever so gently as they walked out the back door of the club. His lips lingered near hers for a moment,

“Miss me?” he asked breathily.

She shoved his chest playfully. “Of course not.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he said, smiling in the semi-darkness.

“I know,” she whispered as he pulled her into his chest and held her there with his arms around her.

“Well I’ve missed you…we had such a nice night and then you never called me back..” she could see the twinkle in his eye as he feigned dejection.

She rolled her eyes at him, “Well I’ve been busy.. I do have a life you know,” she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Ah yes, the busy Miss Mariana. Too busy to even send a poor chap a text…” he teased.

“Oh shut up. You could’ve sent _me_ a text,” she said, still trying to get a bit farther from that intense blue gaze of his. His cologne or his scent, or a mix of the two, was intoxicating, especially so close.

“Maybe I just like surprising you…” he said, his breath hot and heavy in her ear.

She gave an involuntary shiver.

“Well here I am..” it was almost a dare, almost a plea.

With that his roguish grin returned and he lifted his head from her neck and took one of her hands in his, “Then let’s go.”

Mariana raised her eyebrow at him. As attracted to him as she was, she didn’t want him to think he held _all_ the cards. “Who said anything about going somewhere?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “You are too much darling. Would you like to stay?”

Mariana looked back over her shoulder at the club. “I can’t leave.. Lana..”

“Lana will be fine without you,” he assured her, still holding on to her hand, attempting to pull her away.

“And just where do you intend on taking me?” feigning concern.

“Somewhere a bit more...personal.”

“Such as..?”

He grinned. “It’s a surprise.”

Mariana rolled her eyes once more. James and his surprises.

“Let me send Lana a text and we can go? Alright?” she said at last.

He grinned like a schoolboy.

“I need my hand!”

“Haha. Of course,” and he finally released her hand and stuck both of his into the front pockets of his very tight pants.

“Thank you. Alright. Lead on,” she said, resigning herself to whatever James had decided to drag her into.

James reached out for her waist and the two of them headed away from the pulsating club and out into the night. The streets were alive, even as late as it was, full of people coming and going to and from parties, dressed up in all manner of costumes. Gradually, they left the noise and bustle behind. They were approaching the Thames. James led her out onto the Millennium Bridge, where they stopped in the middle, overlooking the City.

“What do you think?” he said a little breathlessly, eyes beaming in the light from the City.

“It’s beautiful,” Mariana replied in all sincerity.

James smiled over at her. “See? Isn’t this better?”

“Yes, yes it is,” she replied, still gazing out over the water.

With that he leaned over and pressed his soft lips to hers and caught her off guard. A moment later she recovered and slid her arms up around his neck and his slid down around her waist and the two stood together, locked in a kiss.

A passerby yelled, “Get a room!” and they both looked up, Mariana began to blush and so did James. He looked like the sudden rush of tenderness surprised even himself and he struggled to recover his aloof, charming air. But it was too late, Mariana saw it and he knew she saw it. He tried anyway.

“Let’s go to my place darling,” he whispered seductively.

Mariana laughed lightly. “Not so fast sweetheart. We don’t even know eachother yet.”

“You can’t deny you’re attracted to me,” he protested, clearly not used to not getting his way.

“I didn’t and I couldn’t,” Mariana said, a huge smile crossing her face. She was enjoying the discomfort he was clearly experiencing.

“Come on, let’s go find somewhere nice and warm to sit. How does a bookstore slash coffee-shop sound to you?”

His eyes lit up at the very mention of it and Mariana could tell she’d found his soft spot.

“Yes! I know the perfect one..” and with that he grabbed her hand again and excitedly hurried off at a pace she could barely keep against his much longer legs.

When they finally arrived at the bookstore Mariana could tell she’d made a good suggestion. It was tucked away, barely noticeable between two storefronts, old and worn down, but obviously well-loved. It was two in the morning and still had several patrons clustered around tables or settled into comfortable looking couches. Bookshelves lined the walls and a coffee bar dominated the left side of the room. James could not contain his smile now as he pulled open the door and gestured for Mariana to enter,

“After you m’lady,” he said.

Mariana smiled at him, all chivalry now, and walked in to be greeted by a blast of warm air and the delicious scent of roasted coffee. She took a deep breath.

“It smells like heaven,” she said with her eyes still closed.

“Good,” he said and kissed her cheek before heading up to the bar.

“What would you like darling?” he asked her over his shoulder.

“A double espresso please,” she said, standing behind him at the bar. “You don’t have to buy it for me you know.”

He smiled. “I know. But it’d be my pleasure.”

She smiled back at him, loving the way his voice hitched ever so slightly on the word “pleasure.” They waited together at the bar, Mariana taking in the place and James watching her reaction.

“This place is perfect. Every coffee shop should be like this. If I could ever find my way here again without you I don’t think I’d ever leave.”

He threw his head back in his wonderful laugh. “Just come to my place then, I’ve got tons of books and I can make a mean cup of espresso.”

She hit his arm lightly and rolled her eyes at him. “Ya ya. Where should we sit?”

James looked around, and deciding he wanted to be close to her, he dragged her over to a deep, squishy love seat in a darkened corner where he set the drinks down on the low table in front of it and sat down, pulling her practically into his lap.

“How’s this?” he purred, kissing her neck ever so gently, careful to avoid ruining her face paint.

“Perfect,” she whispered, turning her head to kiss just under his ear, receiving a shiver of

delight from him in return.

They passed the rest of the night there, talking, drinking coffee, cuddling and teasing each other until the clock finally chimed five. James looked up from their conversation when he heard it and sighed.

“I should probably be getting you home now darling. I’m sure you don’t want to walk

through the streets at dawn in all your face paint.”

“Ah. Ya you’re right,” she replied, setting down her third cup of espresso.

James clamored up out of the loveseat and offered her his hand, which she gladly took. They carried their dishes up to the front and set off, back into the dark soon-to-be morning.

James knew his way around that town like none other. Mariana thought she’d never cease to be impressed with his knowledge of how to find the quickest way back to her apartment without fail. Before she knew it she was standing at her apartment steps again, staring into the most gorgeous blue-green eyes she’d ever seen and wishing she trusted him enough to bring him upstairs with her.

Just like before, James lifted her hand to his lips, never looking away from her eyes.

“Thank you for a wonderful night love,” he said, his lips tickling her hand.

“No, thank you,” she said before pulling him close into a long, deep kiss. “Sleep well.”

And with that she tore herself away and headed up the stairs.

Mariana burst into her apartment and closed the door behind her, leaning against it heavily.

 _Why does he have to be so attractive?_ she groaned inwardly. She glanced around the apartment. It looked like Lana wasn’t back yet, but Mariana didn’t worry. She felt sure Lana had found some handsome man at the club and spent the night with him. _James was right. Lana could handle herself_. She sighed to herself and wandered to her room, stopping by the window first to see if James was still in sight. He wasn’t. _That sneaky bastard,_ she thought. _That handsome, charming, sneaky bastard_ , she thought as she fell face-first onto her bed and promptly fell asleep, face paint and all.

 

 


	14. Thanksgiving

With the advent of November came a blur of papers, articles, reports, projects and presentations for Mariana. James called a few times, Lana tried to get her to unglue herself from her desk chair, they both tried to get her out into the world with them, or even out into the kitchen to no avail. Lana had started making it a habit to come in and bring Mariana tea in the evening or some left-overs if she cooked, as Mariana hardly left her room anymore.

It was one of those days and Mariana was seated at her desk, eyes squinting into the bright light of her computer as the room darkened around her, too focused to notice and turn on the light, when her phone buzzed next to her. It was James, asking if she had any plans for the night.

“Nope. Workin all night,” she replied.

“What? Even tonight?”

“Yes.. why? something special going on?”

“It’s Thanksgiving love! I thought you were American!”

 _Shit. So it was._ Mariana hadn’t even noticed a third of the month of November had

slipped right past her. She sighed. Not that holidays really meant anything to her anymore. Thanksgiving was all about family, which she didn’t have anymore.

“I can’t exactly celebrate it..no family and all..” she didn’t bother trying to conceal her bitterness.

“Well back home right?”

“Right.” Mariana didn’t want to delve into all that just yet.

“I’m sorry love.”

“It’s okay. Well I gotta get back to work,” and with a sigh she set the phone down and turned back to her glowing computer screen, wondering how it had suddenly become night without her noticing. She shook her head, got up and stretched then turned on the light and sat back down to bury her head in her books and her work.

Maybe an hour had passed when Mariana heard a soft knock at the door. At first she thought she was imagining it, then she expected it to be one of Lana’s friends and for her to get the door. However when the knocking continued she finally got up, wondering if maybe Lana had locked herself out. She opened the door and to her surprise, James was standing there, holding a bag of groceries.

“Hello darling,” he smiled, blue eyes twinkling, pleased with the surprised look on Mariana’s face.

“What are you doing here?” Mariana exclaimed.

“Well what kind of a greeting is that?” he teased.

Mariana stammered, “Um.. I’m sorry! Come in!” and tiptoed up to kiss his lips.

James followed her into the apartment, looking around, appraising the charming little

place as he set the bag down on the kitchen counter.

“Lovely place.”

“Thanks, it’s all Lana’s doing.”

“She has good taste,” he said in a smooth voice.

“So what’s all this?” Mariana asked, gesturing at the brown paper bag.  

“Just a little something. You run off and do your work, I’ll come get you when it’s ready.”

“Okay….” Intrigued, Mariana raised an eyebrow before putting her arms around his neck and kissing him once more, before obeying and heading off to her room.

Once back at her desk, she tried to concentrate on the journal article in front of her,

highlighter in hand, but found it much too distracting having James just in the other room, in her kitchen, in her house. Just being near him was almost too much to handle. She willed herself to focus, but her mind kept drifting back to him. _He’s not really making me something because it’s Thanksgiving is he…? No that’d be too much.. no one is that nice…_

She heard a knock and turned around to see James’ face poke through the door.

“Dinner is served,” he said with a grin.

Mariana’s mouth fell open when she saw the kitchen table, set for two, with a pan of stuffing, a bowl of cranberry jelly, mashed potatoes, and some sliced turkey.

“Haha you made me Thanksgiving dinner!”

“Is it okay..? I know it’s not all from scratch but I didn’t have much time and…”

She grabbed the sides of his face and silenced him with a kiss, pulling away to flash a beaming smile at him.

“Thank you, it’s perfect.”

He looked relieved and hurried to pull out her chair. Ever the gentleman, he sat her first then himself.

“I hope it tastes alright.”

“I’m sure it will be wonderful.” She smiled a warm, happy smile at him, receiving a happy one in return.

After they ate, the two of them sat on the couch, his arm around her as she lay her head on her shoulder, basking in his warmth and comfort. He kissed the top of her head and she smiled languidly up at him.

“Thank you so much. You really didn’t have to do that..”

“But I wanted to.”

“I know but… how can you be so nice? No one is this nice,” Mariana protested.

He laughed lightly, “No? Would you like me to be more of a cad?”

“Only if that’s what you really are…”

She looked up to see him raise an eyebrow at her. “Careful what you wish for dear,” before she closed her eyes as his lips met hers. After a few more tender kisses and unhurried moments, James finally untangled himself from Mariana and readied himself to go. He leaned down over her and kissed her forehead.

“Study hard, darling. Don’t forget about me,” he said softly.

“I could never…” she said quietly as she watched him leave.

 

 


	15. Intentions

After that evening, James began coming over more and more often and Lana spent more and more time skiing. Mariana missed her roommate, but she relished James’ company as well. He’d often come over for just a while to maybe cook a little food together, to watch a show, to walk through the snowy park, just pass a quiet evening together. Mariana felt she could get used to it, but something nagged at the back of her mind. She wished she could read him better, he was such an enigma to her, which somehow scared her and intrigued her at the same time. She felt like she’d known him forever, and yet he managed to surprise her every day. Before she knew it, Christmas had arrived, and James was heading off to visit his family, and to Mariana’s surprise, Lana was staying in town with her.

“Lana, I really hope you’re not just staying here for me.”

“Don’t be silly. There’s going to be lots of parties in town, and I don’t need to go anywhere. I’ll see my family later, they’re not going anywhere,” Lana replied with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Mariana shrugged. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, it would’ve been difficult to

be alone on Christmas. Even though she didn’t celebrate it as Christians did, it had always been a day for family, even when it was just her and her slightly-off-balanced super-religious mother. Her mother, as flawed as she was, had still always been there and was still the one who raised her. She couldn’t help but think of the way things used to be, days she could barely remember, days when her mother almost seemed happy. Holidays almost always found her sad growing up, but still, she missed the family she had never had. At least this year she had several party invitations and Lana to keep her company. This Christmas, she would be with her new “family” and try her best to forget about what she left behind.

“So, what’s the plan then? Want to come to dinner with Melanie, Flynn and me?”

“What, no James?” Lana teased.

“Shut up, he went home to see his family.”

“That’s too bad, the way you talk about him, I really hoped to see if he’s half as attractive as you say..” Lana raised an eyebrow at her, mockingly.

Mariana scowled at her. “He is!”

“Uh huh..”

“Whatever. Is that a yes?”

“And then we go down to that house party on ____?”

“Yes, we can go so you can find a new boy toy for the night..”

“Hey! I’m not a whore!” Lana protested.

Mariana rolled her eyes at her. “You just have a...voracious appetite for sex.. happy?”

Lana smiled at her. “You’re just jealous.”

Mariana rolled her eyes again. “Maybe I just like to _know_ the guy first.”

“What, and you don’t think you know James yet?”

“I don’t know… kind of but…”

“But what?”

“There’s just something about him that I can’t figure out…”

Now it was Lana’s turn to roll her eyes. “You’re just scared.”

“I’m just...cautious! Okay!” Mariana said, pouting.

“Yes, yes, a bit too cautious if you ask me…”

“Well I didn’t did I?” asked Mariana, looking stern.

Lana didn’t buy it. “Haha. Come on, let’s get ready to go.”

The two girls headed out to the dinner party and had a lovely time. Mariana wasn’t abundantly close to her colleagues from the department, but they made for pleasant company and a nice distraction from an otherwise depressing day. Lana made small talk and charmed them all with her bright smiles and in no time had captured them with just a few bats of her luxuriously long eyelashes. Mariana was happy to let her do the talking and just sit back and let the happy voices wash over her. They sat and enjoyed wine and laughs after dinner until Lana finally made excuses for them and dragged them away, off to some party at a friend’s house nearby. Mariana would have been happy to just go home and go to sleep early, but Lana would have none of it.

“I didn’t stay here just so you could go home at eleven PM and go to sleep like an old lady.”

“So you admit it! You _did_ stay here for me!”

Lana looked at her with annoyance. “Just come on! You’ll have fun, you know I’m right.”

Mariana knew she couldn’t argue, she did always have fun out with Lana. They arrived at the house and Mariana was surprised to see so many people there already. She probably should have known Lana would only take her to a raging party, she wasn’t one for tame events. No, Lana liked the grand entrance, the greeting of all her friends, the flashing her eyes at all the handsome men, enchanting them and teasing them all night with her slinky short dresses. Mariana found it so amusing. Although, she had to admit part of her wished _she_ could be half as alluring and charming as Lana. Charm was something you were born with, and Mariana had beauty, but just no charm. Her true thoughts and snarky opinions rolled far too easily off her tongue to ever be in league with Lana.

But no matter, she followed her roommate through the house, determined not to become separated from her this time. Lana, anticipating Mariana’s discomfort around so many new people, reached back and took her hand and led her through, introducing her to people as she went. Mariana smiled her thanks and received a gorgeous smile from Lana in return.

Before long, Mariana found herself in the middle of the dark crowded basement serving as a dance floor (complete with flashing colored lights) with Lana still holding her hand. Lana had pulled her to the middle and stopped, turned around and reached for Mariana’s other hand.

“Care to dance?” she asked, half-joking in tone.

“I’m sure there’s a long line of suitors…” Mariana replied dryly.

“No, this dance is for you,” Lana purred and pulled her close.

Without further ado, Lana put one arm around Mariana’s neck, the other around her waist, and slithered close, laughing as they pretended to dance seductively, grinding against eachother to the music. Mariana was no stranger to dancing with her girl friends, but somehow this felt a little different to her, especially remembering that drunk night together on the couch… She shivered when she felt Lana’s hot breath on her neck, and couldn’t help but feel her body respond when she felt Lana’s lips kiss her collar bone. Suddenly Lana laughed softly and pulled away with a teasing look in her eye and roguish grin playing on her lips.

“Come on, let’s get some drinks.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur of drinks, lights, dancing and music, typical of a night out with Lana. The drinks lowered Mariana’s guards and she found herself dancing closer and closer to Lana, enjoying the feeling of her swaying hips under her hand and her slender soft legs brushing up against hers. She loved the way Lana’s blue eyes looked violet in the changing light and how her beautiful luscious lashes framed them so perfectly. The sinuous, seductive way she danced felt familiar and natural somehow and Mariana swayed her hips to keep time with Lana’s own. When Mariana looked up and Lana’s laughing eyes were staring into her own, she felt herself blush and hid her face in the hollow between Lana’s shoulder and collarbone, enjoying the feeling of her warm skin against her lips.

“Let’s go,” Lana whispered huskily.

Wordlessly, Mariana followed her as Lana led them out, holding Mariana’s hand and weaving their way back out of the undulating throng. The walk home was dominated in Mariana’s mind by the sensation of Lana’s arm tight around her waist and her hip bumping into her own as they walked home, side by side. Her mind was filled with her scent, her closeness, her warmth. James passed through her mind, she wondered what he was doing, and why it wasn’t his arm around her waist, not that she was complaining. She was enjoying the closeness, the anticipation, the nerves she felt from being unsure what was happening and what might happen next.

They stumbled into the apartment where Lana pulled her toward the couch and almost forcefully pushed her down upon it. Mariana felt like her head was in a fog as she looked up at the beautiful woman who stood above her. Her exquisite cheekbones gleamed in the moonlight and her large eyes seemed to change from deep blue to teal to green to blue to gray and back again. She was mesmerized, transfixed by those eyes. She loved Lana’s long graceful limbs and silky smooth hair. As she lay there, spell-bound by the face above her, she watched as it seemed to change in the dim, otherworldly light. Her features seemed to grow sharper, more angular, for just a moment she was reminded of James, before the spell was broken and Lana leaned down and pressed her soft pink lips to Mariana’s own, holding them there as she climbed on top of her where she lay on the couch.

Mariana didn’t know what to think, she couldn’t think, but her body reacted all the same. Her fingertips lightly traced Lana’s hips and waist as the Lana’s tongue gently pried open Mariana’s lips, tracing them before entering to meet Mariana’s. She forced her mouth open a little more, taking the kiss deeper as her hand slid down from the cushion above Mariana’s head and onto her shoulder, over her breast, over her waist until she found the hem of her shirt. She slid her hand under the fabric and across Mariana’s warm, smooth skin. She savored it before moving up to her breast, lightly tracing it with just her fingertips.

Lana stopped and pulled back to look at Mariana. Her mouth still hung open slightly, her breaths coming a little faster now, but her eyes still had that shocked look to them, unsure of what was happening and not knowing what to do about it. Lana gave a little laugh, knowing the poor girl beneath her would have let her take things further, but seeing the still-foggy look in her eyes was too much. She traced Mariana’s jaw in kisses before whispering in her ear,

“Go to sleep darling, this can wait... I want you to _enjoy_ it.”


	16. New Years

Mariana woke up on the couch with a pounding head and a queasy stomach. She groaned at the bright light streaming in through the window and rolled over, burying her head in the pillows. She had no desire to get up and face the day. Suddenly a dream, no, a memory flashed through her mind and she bolted up. This time, she knew she hadn’t imagined it. _Lana kissed me last night! She came onto me… didn’t she? What was it she said...right before I passed out..?_ She couldn’t quite remember. All she could remember was the feeling of her head buzzing with adrenaline and anticipation and the very nearness of Lana last night.

This morning however, she was no where to be found. Mariana wasn’t sure if she should bring it up. _Lana is my roommate, my friend… and I like James...Not that that really has anything to do with it...It’s not like we’re exclusive or even dating or anything…_ She wondered what was happening to the relationships in her life and covered her face with her hands and fell back into the warmth of the couch. _This is all getting too complicated,_ she groaned. _This is why I didn’t want to get involved in anything… Too late for that,_ she thought. As much as she hated to admit it, she was pretty hooked on James. And Lana, she had no idea what was going on with that, but she kept finding herself drawing in, rather than pulling away to both of the attractive, charming Brits in her life.

She decided to mediate, maybe clear her mind a bit and help her true feelings rise from the depths of her subconscious to the surface of her conscious mind. She showered, had coffee and ate before sitting down in front of her altar. She hit play on a particularly effective slow, rhythmic beat that often helped her attain her most productive meditative state, and settled in to let her mind relax.

When she came out of her meditation, she had realized a few things. Lana and James were kind of like two sides of the same coin. She felt drawn to them both and somehow felt that she wouldn’t need to choose between them. She could feel the stronger influence of an outside force. Not like go or pre-determination, but rather someone had their powerful hand involved in the current events of her life. She decided she would let that person or force come to her, rather than seek it out. No, this was a waiting game. She could tell that it would come to her before long, and everything that was hidden would be revealed. She knew there were pieces missing, and that it somehow involved James, which was the real source of her reluctance to get overly close with him. She was not one to move forward without the facts.

She wandered back to the living room, feeling rather drained, but calmer now. She grabbed some toast and laid back down on the couch and picked up her phone. She decided to text James and see how his Christmas went. It wasn’t long before her phone buzzed with his reply.

“It was lovely. And yours?”

“A little weird. Lana got me drunk of course.”

“Haha of course. Why weird?”

“I don’t know.. she kind of came on to me.? I don’t know.”

“And that’s a bad thing? haha”

“Not necessarily.. just not what I expected out of my Christmas evening! As if you wouldn’t be jealous anyway.”

“Haha no not me…”

“Suuuure.”

“Maybe a little. What are you doing for New Years darling?”

“Nothing yet. You?”

“I’m taking a lovely lady out to dinner.”

“Oh really?”

“Look who’s jealous now…”

“You shut up. Is this your way of asking me out on a date?”

“Maybe. ; )”

“Hmm…”

“Yes yes it is. I’ll pick you up at 8?”

“Sounds lovely.” Mariana started to get the feeling of butterflies in her stomach and excitement rise in her chest. Although she’d spent plenty of nights whiling away the hours with James, drinking coffee and chatting, they hadn’t actually gone on a “date.” Now he had asked, and on New Year’s even. Something was definitely going to be different about this one, she could tell.

 

 


	17. Promises

The few days between Christmas and New Year’s passed quickly for Mariana. Even Lana could tell she was excited and mocked her mercilessly for it.

“Ooh Mariana, getting all dressed up for a certain somebody are we?” she cooed.

“Shut up Lana and help me pick out an outfit.”

“Haha finally gonna fuck him are we?”

Mariana glared at her. “Not _necessarily_.”

Lana rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand your problem.”

“There’s something missing, something he’s holding back, I can tell. I told you, I’ve Searched on it and I’m not going to get too close to him while he’s still so hidden.”

Lana raised an eyebrow at her skeptically.

“I don’t care if you don’t buy it but I know what I Saw. My magic can always tell if something is amiss, if someone is hiding something. I usually can tell what it is, but with him I can’t. All the more reason to be careful,” she muttered, turning away from Lana’s narrowed eyes.

Mariana heard Lana sigh dramatically behind her.

“Well here, let me help you. I have to go soon,” she said as she starting throwing clothes onto the bed. “Try these on.”

Mariana did as she bid.

“You look beautiful. He’s gonna love you.”

Mariana blushed at the sudden kind words from her usually teasing roommate.

“Thanks,” she smiled.

“You’re welcome. Now I’m off. See you later love! Have fun.”

“Thanks Lana!” she called after her, then she heard the door shut. She surveyed herself

in the bedroom mirror. She liked what she saw. She hoped James would too.

The time had come for the anxiously-waiting part of the date. It was almost 8 so Mariana checked her make-up one more time, brushed her teeth, told herself to stop acting like a silly teenager, and finally sat down on the couch to read and not think about the butterflies in her stomach.

She had just settled down and was getting back into the book she was reading when the knock at the door startled her back to the present. She put the book down and got up to answer the door. She opened it and there stood James, clad in a magnificent dark blue three-piece suit, tie, dress shoes and all. His curly bronze hair was perfectly swept back in a style that said, sophisticated, yet not trying too hard. Her mouth fell slightly open at the sight of him so dashing, so dapper, so handsome. He was too busy staring at _her_ to notice she was still staring at _him_. Mariana was wearing a body-con dress that reached just above her knees, black peep-toe pumps, and a black trenchcoat over it. The dress was a deep shade of red that complimented her bronze skin and the material and form of it accentuated her curves perfectly. The thick straps formed a halter that transitioned into a racer-back that showed off her strong shoulders. For several moments, they shamelessly stood in the doorway, drinking in the sight of one another.

Finally, James broke the silence.

“You look _ravishing_ darling.”

Mariana smiled seductively at him, “As do you,” and she leaned in to place a hand on his neck and a kiss on his lips.

“Ready?” he asked, offering her his arm.

They headed off to a more upscale restaurant than Mariana had ever been to. Music played softly in the background, red wine was poured, several courses were served. She felt like she was in a fairy tale, unused to such pampering and feeling slightly uncomfortable in such foreign surroundings.

“I should’ve known you were a man of exquisite taste,” she said rather dryly.

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” he asked, smiling and raising an eyebrow at her.

“I’ve just never been to such a fancy place...I hope I don’t embarrass you, or myself.”

He reached out across the table to take her hands in his and leaned forward, looking into her eyes and with sincerity said, “I could never be embarrassed of you.”

She looked into his eyes and couldn’t help but believe him.

“Fancy restaurants are not the most important things in life darling. I’d just as rather spend time at home with you.”

She felt her insides melting despite herself. She smiled shyly at him.

“Thank you.”

“If you’re uncomfortable, we can go,” he said, still searching her eyes.

“I’m fine. It’s lovely, really,” she smiled.

“Alright love.”

They finished their meal passing light conversation, and then he led her out to the park where they overlooked the frozen lake and basked in the moonlight.

“So no crazy parties for us tonight?” she asked, turning to him with a teasing smile.

“Only if you’d prefer that to a night indoors, cuddling close to me,” he said, lips in her hair and an arm around her, holding her close.

“I think I’d rather have you to myself…” she whispered, letting her hand slide down his chest to fiddle with the button on his overcoat.

“Will Lana be home?”

“No, she’s out for the night.”

He smiled and they headed back to Mariana’s apartment.


	18. Truth Revealed

They finally reached the apartment just in time, as flurries had started to fall around them, condensing in their hair, their scarves and James’ beard. They gladly rushed into the warm apartment and threw off their outer layers before James pulled her to the couch and almost into his lap.

“Isn’t this better darling?” he purred.

“Yes,” Mariana smiled, leaning in to kiss him.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said and got up and went over to a bag Mariana hadn’t seen him bring, where he pulled out a bottle of wine.

“Would you like a glass?”

“Yes please.”

Mariana sat on the couch, admiring the fat snowflakes as they swirled through the air,

losing their individuality to condense into a thick wall of whiteness. James came back over with two glasses and the wine and settled her back on his chest.

“Now darling, this is where you belong,” he said happily, kissing her soft brown hair.

The night and the wine wore on, and feeling more relaxed and comfortable than she ever had so far with James, began talking about her childhood and her life before London. She found herself telling her story almost from the perspective of an outsider, half amused, half sad for the pathetic main character. James just listened. He seemed to know she needed to get it off her chest. After a while, she was no longer just telling him off-handedly about her life, no, she realized she couldn’t stop, she _had_ to tell him _everything_. She couldn’t face him. She got up and went to the window, eyes glazed over as if she were seeing the events of the past. She started telling him about the dark aura, how her group started treating her differently when,

Suddenly, James stopped her mid-sentence.

“Mariana.” She stopped talking and turned to him. He had an unnamable expression on his face. “I know why you were cast out. Why your mother lost her mind and tried to kill you.”

“What?” Only confusion registered on her face. “How..?”

“ _I_ was that black aura that followed you, that made them distrust you and fear you. I planted the thought, the doubt, the fear in their minds. I hid myself from you when you tried to search for me. I used my magic to make your mother go mad.”

“W-What?! How..why?” She still couldn’t believe him but anger began to replace her confusion.

“You can do magic? You never told me… How could you, why would you, you destroyed _everything_? My whole life…” She faced him now, hands closed into fists, anger filling her body, rage and disbelief forming on her face.

James still looked at her with that same sad, serious expression. He stood up.

“Because it was our _destiny_. It was foretold by a prophecy.”

“Our destiny? A prophecy? What are you saying?” she hissed, anger and disbelief still playing across her features.

James closed the distance between them and took gentle but firm hold of her upper arms and looked intently into her eyes as he spoke.

“I can teach you magic like mine. I possess the ancient runes you have always dreamt of.”

“What?! Dreamt of… how do you know what I’ve dreamt of? Who _are_ you?!” Mariana was shouting, irate now.

James stood up and let go of her arms. Suddenly, his appearance changed. He grew shorter, his hair grew long and blonde, his features softened, his eyes turned to a deep blue. Mariana was shocked as _Lana_ stood before her.

“No…” she whispered…

Then he began to change once more and his face grew paler, more angular somehow, his hair turned black and shortened to reach his shoulders. His clothes changed to dark green robes under a long black leather overcoat.

“You know who I am.” His voice was merely a hiss now.

“No...no…”

“Say my name.”

“No…”

“Say it.” He commanded.

“Loki.” It was barely a whisper as betrayal and despair set in and she turned away from him, she couldn’t look at him.

“Yes, darling. It was fated that we would be drawn together. If you gave me a son, he would _change the course of history_!” A manic smile crossed his face and his eyes looked as if he was no longer seeing this world.

Shock and rage distorted Mariana’s face.

“How _dare_ you?! How dare you come into my life and ruin it all, and to deceive me all this time, for, for a, a _prophecy_?!”

“It is our destiny! You would never have come to me otherwise!” He shouted in return.

She suddenly laughed in his face, a cold, cruel laugh.

“You _fool_ ," she spat,  "Thinking _this_ was the way to a woman’s heart? Why waste all these months courting me and befriending me, lying to me if all you ever intended to do was buy my _womb_ at the price of some _runes_?!” she shouted at him.

“What would you rather I’d done?” he demanded.

“ _Anything_ but this. I will _never_ give you a son. I was a fool for thinking there could ever be something real between us. Get out you _monster_.”

Loki straightened up. “I refuse to believe you would cast me out in the cold like that, after all we’ve been through.”

She looked him with deadly menace and said in a hiss, “You and I have been through _nothing_. I do not know _you_.”

“You know James, you know Lana. What difference does it make when I am in my true form?”

She glared at him. “ _They_ are not _real_. They are just forms that you stole, identities that you _created_. There is _nothing_ authentic about them. Is Lana even a real person?” She yelled at him.

“Yes, but she doesn’t know who you are. She was just a form that I took to get close to you.”

“Yes, to find my weakness and to determine _how best to trick me_!” Mariana grabbed a lamp off the table and threw it at him, but he dodged it easily. She could no longer control her rage and her embarrassment at his betrayal.

He crossed the distance between them in one stride and grabbed her, and kissed her long and hard. It was a passionate kiss, but full of anger and betrayal and want.

“You cannot tell me you don’t still feel drawn to me.” He said in a low voice, husky with desire.

She didn’t deny it. She turned her face away from his, trying to escape.

“I will not sell myself to you.” Her voice was cold and defiant.

“Tell me you wouldn’t want to rule over the nine realms as my queen, with our son to defend us.” The haughty smile took over his face again.

“No.” She said sharply.  “I’m not like you. You are cruel, selfish. A trickster, and I was almost the fool that fell for it.” She wrenched herself out of his grasp and turned away.

“Go find yourself another woman to bear your horrible son,” she said over her shoulder.

“There is no other. There is only you.” His voice lost its malice and he had turned and sunk down to the couch, looking drained and defeated.

She looked at him hard a moment. She loved him. Before, she had thought one day she might tell him she loved him, but now she knew she never could. She would have to go to her grave with that knowledge, and could never act on it. But he was right. She couldn't deny being drawn to him. She could never change that. She had been drawn to him before she even knew he existed. The place that felt empty all her life, now she knew what she’d been missing.

She moved over to the couch and sat down next to him and slid her hand up the side of his face, so much colder and paler than the one she knew and loved. His big green eyes stared at her, questioning, open, innocent somehow, they were the same eyes as before, ones that changed with the light and his mood. She leaned forward and kissed him, long, sweet and hard. He was tentative at first, not sure if he should really return the kiss, then his desire for her took over and he grabbed her face gently, firmly, and pulled her closer to him until she was nearly in his lap. Mariana finally pulled away and looked deep into his eyes, as if by doing so she could somehow discern his very thoughts. She wished she could. She wished she could trust him.

She disentangled herself from him and sat back and looked at him hard once more. She thought she knew the answer, but she asked anyway.

“How do you know I am the one the prophecy speaks of?” Her tone skeptical.

He looked at her, surprised. “I’ve known it since I first became aware of your existence. Your interest, your powers, they drew me to you. I dreamt of you every night.” His said it simply, honestly.

They sat quietly a moment. Mariana still couldn’t quite believe the man she’d known, the roommate she’d _thought_ she’d known, was really Loki, a figure she’d studied extensively but never quite thought was, for a lack of a better word, real, but at the same time she couldn’t not believe it. As illogical as the situated seemed, there was no other logical explanation. Who else could shape-shift, who else knew the magic of the runes? She felt the draw of being fated, she couldn’t deny it. Had she gone mad? She didn’t think so. Her work with magic had taught her to trust her instincts and her subconscious mind.

“What did the prophecy say? About us..”

Loki turned to look at her, weariness on his face. He laid down on the couch and pulled her onto his chest. She curled up there, the last and only comfort she had in this world.

“That we would have a son, and he would change the course of Ragnarok. He would either help me vanquish the gods, or he would kill me, preventing the death of Balder and Ragnarok all together.” He said it simply, with just a hint of anger where fear should be in his voice.

Mariana looked up at him sharply, skeptically.

“And you would risk your own life? Your certain death, for the possibility of ruling?” she asked incredulously, it didn’t seem in his character to risk his own life. He was famous, no, infamous for doing anything and everything to protect his own skin. Was he really so despondent?

He was quiet and contemplative for a moment.

“The reward is greater than the risk.”

Mariana didn’t know what to think. She couldn’t believe that the man she thought she knew so well was really such a monster, the one who would unleash destruction on all of them at Ragnarok, the Sly One, the Liesmith. She knew she couldn’t stay away from him indefinitely, but maybe there was still hope for him. She didn’t want to be _that girl_ , the one who tries to love the bad guy out of his evil ways and undoubtedly fails, but was he really evil? No, she didn’t believe so. If anyone of the Aesirs were evil it was Odin himself.

Mariana knew the myths well. It was Odin who started wars and sowed the lust for bloodshed in the hearts of men. It was Odin who goaded and taunted Thor at the river for his own entertainment, just because he could. The gods were not blameless, honorable creatures. If any of them deserved reverence from men it was Thor and Balder. Thor, the champion of men, and Balder, the sweetest of the all the gods. She thought about Balder.

One of the last myths in the cycle told how Sweet Balder’s death was foretold by a seeress so the gods took vows from every thing in all the worlds that it would not kill him. But then, they turned trying to kill him into a game! They tried to spear him, stone him, and throw darts at him, marvelling that he could not be killed. It was Loki that took it too far, whose cleverness found the only thing that hadn’t sworn an oath, the mistletoe, and who ruined their joke. They turned on Loki, knowing it was he who put the weapon in Balder’s poor blind brother’s hand.

How did they not see it was their own actions that brought the prophecy to fruition? How did they not see how they gambled with the very life they tried to save? So frivolous were they, placing all their faith in their own powers, their own cleverness, not daring to imagine there was something they might have overlooked, believing wholeheartedly in their own invincibility. And did they learn their lesson from this? No. They sought vengeance instead. Loki became the scapegoat, the one to bear the blame and take the fall for the gods’ stupidity. Mariana felt no lost love for them. If the myths were true, had she not gone mad and this really was Loki here with her, she saw no reason to perpetuate the reign of deities that did not deserve it. Maybe she had gone mad, separating reality from fantasy always had been difficult for her, and if anything her spiritual training had taught her they were often one and the same. Maybe she did know what to do.

She reached up a hand and took firm but gentle hold of his face, just below those beautifully carved cheekbones, and pulled his face to hers, drawing him into a deep, passionate kiss.

He pulled away, surprised.

“What are you doing?” he asked, confused.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she purred.

“But I thought you said…”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe I changed my mind… Maybe I _do_ want to be your queen…” she said, her voice as silky smooth and seductive as she could make it, hoping he would believe her.

He looked at her skeptically, then his need took over. His arms pulled her in closer to his chest as her warm tongue caressed his thin lips, which parted slightly, allowing their lips and tongues to mingle. She felt his body respond almost instantly, as did hers, and the kiss took on a feeling of urgency and desire. His hands gripped her waist, almost painfully, as she dug her fingers into his wild dark mane of hair. He slid down the couch until he was laying flat and she lay on top of him, grinding her hips into his and feeling his desire beneath her. One hand stayed buried in his hair as the other traveled down the length of his chest, struggling to find the hem of his shirt, and when she finally did she quickly slid her hand under it to feel his soft porcelain skin and hard toned chest.

He disengaged his lips from hers for but a moment and pushed her up slightly so he could sit up enough to pull the shirt up over his head, then proceeded to unzip the long back of her dress and pull it down to rest at her waist. She marvelled at the way his skin shone in the moonlight and he at the creamy paleness of his hand against her smooth caramel skin. She dragged her hand lightly down his bare chest, letting on the softest touch of her fingertips land on his skin. He shivered as she reached the top of his pants and began to undo his belt.

He reached his long slim arms around her back and deftly unhooked her bra with his long slender fingers and began kissing her neck, moving downward in a trail leading between her breasts where he nuzzled for a moment and sighed in the soft warm smell of her skin and cupped a breast in each hand. He covered them with long, slow, sensual kisses before he finally lifted her off of him, scooped her up into his arms and carried her to her bedroom where he laid her down, knelt over her and pulled the rest of the dress off over her hips. She sat up and finished undoing his belt and zipper and tugged his pants down, revealing the great size of his erection, eagerly reaching out to her, begging to be touched.

She wrapped a soft hand around his hard member and firmly squeezed before taking the head in her soft warm lips and slowly began enveloping him with her wet warm mouth. He moaned in pleasure and buried his hands in her hair, wanting more. She teased him mercilessly, pulling and sucking back and forth, slowly, until the need built up in him became almost painful.

“Oh Mariana,” he words came out choked and gasping. He pushed her off him and back down on the bed where he straddled her and reached a hand down to feel her warm opening as his mouth hungrily sucked her neck. He breathed softly into her ear as he eased a finger in, feeling her warm wetness, then two as she shivered and moaned beneath him. It was his turn to tease her, to make her moan and clutch at him, raking her nails up his back. He laughed softly at the effect he was having on her.

“James..”

“Call me by my real name darling…” His velvety smooth voice sent shivers down her spine.

“....Loki… I need you..” she gasped, barely able to form the words and almost afraid to.

“How much?”

“So much...please…” she moaned as he stroked her in just the right spot, she knew it was too late to resist, her body took over and her mind had no choice but to sit idly by.

He nibbled her ear before finally gently sliding his length into her and she gasped as he was finally completely sheathed, he was almost too big for her, in just the right way.

“Oh..you feel glorious.. so perfect…” he moaned as he rocked back and forth on top of her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in close to her and whispered in his ear seductively.. “My turn on top.”

His eyes widen a bit in surprise, then a grin of anticipation crossed his face and he pulled out and rolled over onto his back. Mariana sat up and straddled him, admiring his body as it shone in the moonlight, so soft, so pale, so sinuous.

She reached down to stroke the base of his erection under his balls, receiving a delighted moan from him before finally lowering herself onto him and taking his entire length inside her. She moaned with pleasure as she felt him fill her up and layed down on his chest and kissed him hard as she began to grind her hips into his, using him to hit just the right spot over and over. He raised his hips slightly to meet hers each time and found himself loving her sounds of pleasure and the feeling of her body pressed against his and she rode him. Her hips began to quicken, her muscles tightened, her moans came faster and finally she came hard, moaning into his ear and hands pulling on his hair. She rested on him for a moment, trying to catch her breath.

“Have fun?” he asked, teasing.

“Yes,” she smiled, “now it’s your turn.”

He deftly flipped them over without pulling out and began riding her hard and fast, loving the feeling of her tight walls squeezing around him. She tightened to match his thrusts and could feel him get closer to release. He thrusted faster and faster until finally he came, filling her up and pressing himself as far in as he could possibly go, crying out her name and grabbing fistfuls of hair as he rode through the wave of pleasure that washed over him. He lay on top of her now, both exhausted and satisfied after the months’ worth of sexual tension that had built up between them.  She could have gladly fell asleep like that, with him as her blanket, but he finally, reluctantly, rolled off her and onto his back beside her.

Both still sweaty and breathing heavily, the full weight of the implications of what she’d just done began to settle upon her. Loki lay beside her with a heavy heart as well. He sighed, a deep, sorrowful sigh. Mariana looked over at him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, thinking, _wasn’t this his whole plan_?

He looked over to her with his big, sad, green, forlorn-looking eyes. Then he shook his head, as if trying to clear it he tried to clear his features of their despondent look.

“Nothing…” he looked away.

“Are you just going to ignore me now?” she asked in an impassive voice as she sank back into her pillow.

He frowned. “No… I just… You still want me around?” the God of Mischief almost sounded shy, uncertainty for once tainting his usually so suave and confident voice.

A sad smile played with the corners of her lips and she paused a moment before speaking.

“Of course I do,” she said softly, and reached out to stroke his cheek.

He smiled a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and pulled her to his chest. She cuddled close and he gently kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair. He lifted her face and looked into her eyes, then kissed her tenderly. She settled back into the nook of his shoulder, one arm wrapped around his hard thin chest and her heavy lids began to close as she drifted off to sleep to the sound of his heart.

Just before she sank under the dark waves of sleep, she heard his words...

“I’m so so sorry…”

 


	19. After

The sunlight streaming through the window affronted Mariana’s eyes and her lids were no match for it. She turned away from the light and bumped into a large mound that groaned at the offense. She bolted awake, suddenly recognizing the pale form in the bed with her and all that happened the night before came flooding back to the forefront of her mind. She still couldn’t quite believe it. It was just James… only his hair was black and straight, not curly and bronze.. But his body felt just as familiar in its closeness as it did all those nights pressed against hers on couches in coffee shops.

His back was to her and she couldn’t help but admire his angular broad shoulders. Trying not to wake him, she snaked an arm around his waist and cuddled close. His skin felt cold in his sleep. She suddenly realized he must have warmed his skin all this time, so she wouldn’t feel the iciness of his true form underneath. A frost-giant, in her bed? _The_ Loki Laufeyson, the Norse Trickster God who was part of the pantheon she’d spent the last six years of her life researching?  It couldn’t be true. Her mind was still reeling from the shock. But it was true. She could feel it in her bones and she knew better than to dismiss her instincts. She tried to get back to sleep but she couldn’t. She was far too focused on the beautiful man laying in her arms, breathing gently, as if he were just a man, just like any other, but she knew better.

Her tossing and turning finally woke the slender man beside her. He turned over, clearly confused at first as to why he was in Mariana’s bed and why her arm was around him. Then his eyes fell on her face and the most beautiful, happy smile lit up his face from within. She hadn’t seen that look on his face since they walked into that bookshop, or when he took her on the Millenium Bridge all those months ago.

“Goodmorning darling,” he cooed as he stretched an arm up above his head and brought it down to rest around her. He pulled her in close to his chest and sighed happily, as if there was no where else he’d rather be. She looked up into his bright eyes, they were teal today. She loved the way they changed colors, she decided that this, just-woken-up light teal was her favorite. _I love you_ , the thought came unbidden and the words almost slipped out of her mouth as a sigh. She pushed it away, back into the recesses of her mind and focused on the man in front of her. He had begun to come awake and his eyes roamed over her scantily clad body hungrily, eagerly anticipating that which he had wanted for so long that was now his. His large soft hand found her hip and slowly he dragged it up to her waist, to her chest... As he pressed his lips to hers Mariana lost herself in his touch and surrendered to the need he aroused in her. She had found her match, no point in pitying herself for who it turned out to be.

 

 


	20. Germination

The next few days passed in almost painful awkwardness. Mariana was sure the God of Mischief never anticipated he’d ever be in such a strange situation as living with a Midgardian girl in his true form. Despite the fact that they’d been living together for months, somehow he felt much more comfortable knowing he was in a disguise and had a purpose. Now, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Before long, Mariana settled back into her usual routine as she tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy in her life. She continued to do her research, to study, to work toward her PhD. Life goes on, does it not?

The God of Mischief however, was restless. It seemed to him his end had been reached, his goal near accomplished, all there was now was to wait. He wandered the streets of London like a ghost, a man without purpose, without direction. He buried himself in books, lost himself in the wisdom and folly of those whose words filled musty yellow pages and lined creaking shelves, collecting dust, forgotten by the people who roamed the street, so focused on their trivial, meager lives. It wasn’t long before frustration built up in him. He paced the floor of their living room, lost in his own angry thoughts. Finally they burst out of him and the hatred he felt at his own impotence spewed out across the room.

“Why do you even _bother?_ _Any_ of you. Your lives are so _meaningless_. All you do is sit idly by while you kill eachother and destroy your world. Human beings are a _disease_ don’t you see??” Loki asked one day, frustration and impatience getting the best of him.

Mariana raised an eyebrow at him and looked at him hard. “I _do_ see. Why do you think I’m carrying your child?”

Loki started to say something else angrily then he stopped suddenly, finally comprehending what she said and turned to look at her.

“You’re… you’re carrying my child..? You’re pregnant?” he asked incredulously.

Mariana still looked stern. “Yes,” she said levelly.

Something akin to happiness crossed his face and her expression softened.

“Really darling..? Oh sweetheart…” he exclaimed as he moved across the room to her and kneeled in front of her, taking her face in his hands gently.

She smiled weakly at him.

“You’re that much closer to world dominion now darling…” she said dryly.

He looked confused for a moment. “Right…Is that the only reason you slept with me..?” he asked, trying to get the usual teasing sound back in his voice.

She rolled her eyes at him halfheartedly. “You know that isn’t true…”

“I know,” he said softly, before pulling her soft face to his and kissing her tenderly. He pulled his lips away from hers for just a moment, still holding her face in his long slender hands and cast his eyes downward.  

“I…” his voice trailed off.

She looked at him with expectantly.

“Mariana I…”

She smiled a sad, kind smile at him and stroked his face.

“Shh.. darling, I know…” and planted a gentle, caring kiss on his thin lips.


	21. Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow so I'm sorry it's been who knows how long since I've updated this... It's been a crazy past 6 months for me. If anyone out there cares, this entire fic is written! I'll just keep updating. Sorry!

The next six months passed in a sort of blur for the both of them. To Loki, it seemed like it should have been no time at all, considering how long he’d been alive, this was naught but a second, a mere moment to blink, but somehow he found the months dragged on and on. He had never been so nervous, never before had he experienced waiting for a child born to a mortal. His other children were of a different matter entirely, both those he sired and those he nursed. It seemed like another life to him. Although Fenrir was foretold to eat the world, this was something different entirely. The birth of this child felt, for a lack of a better word, more real. He shook his head of this strange thought. He must have been spending too much time living as a mortal, he feared he was beginning to think like one. He felt much more cautious about this one, about Mariana especially. There was a lot more riding on this child, the stakes were higher than he’d ever experienced.

Mariana had her own share of worries. She felt she was straddling the border of the mundane and the supranatural. She had one foot in her daily life, going to work, researching, with her body behaving just as any pregnant woman’s would. The other foot in was in a much larger world, the world with the Nine Realms, Yggdrasil, Loki, things humankind had long designated to the world of antiquated myth and the prophecy concerning the child she was carrying. She imagined her mixed feelings of dread and excitement were the same as anyone else’s, albeit on a much grander scale.

She tried to not to let on, as Loki’s constant fretting was more than enough stress to begin with. She knew he felt utterly useless and finally resigned to causing trouble in any small way he could without her finding out. He began to get up to his old, infantile tricks, pulling a chair out from beneath a person here, stealing things and causing arguments between people there. He had no qualms about tripping people in the streets for laughs or making them search frantically for items they swore they just had but he had hidden just out of reach. However he soon tired of these games. He was grew bored and it was beginning to wear down on the both of them.

“Loki, why don’t you just go back to Asgard for a bit?” she asked one day, trying to keep her voice light lest it betray her impatience with him and his antics. 

He had been laying on the couch, sighing dramatically and tossing a ball up into the air and catching it repeatedly. He looked over at her, surprised.

“You know, just get your mind off things… off waiting,” she continued.

“But you’ll be here alone…” 

“I’ll be fine,” she said smiling confidently. 

“But, the baby…” he protested.

“They do have doctors here you know.” 

He looked uncertain, but clearly excited about the prospect of getting out and about. He got up and walked over to her where she sat in a deep armchair, balancing a textbook on her large belly and leaned down to her eye-level. 

“Darling are you sure?” he asked, worriedly. 

“Yes sweetheart. Just don’t lose track of time, you’ll be here right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for all the worlds.”


	22. The Chaffing of Old Wounds

Loki wandered without aim through the golden glimmering realm of Asgard. He lay under splendid green trees, heavy with succulent fruit, behind the great shining halls, still standing, unchanged by time immemorial, in long forgotten well-dressed rooms and corners of the great palace, in long-overlooked nooks and crannies under walls, anywhere away from the prying eyes of the others. The others had been very suspicious of him when he returned. The Allfather saw everything in the nine realms, so it was said, but he remained conspicuously silent on the matter of Loki’s absence. Loki didn’t care though. He wondered at it, sure, having a deep distrust for the Allfather, but he did not hold that same fear and reverence for Odin as did the others. Loki, his blood-brother, with whom he had once made a pact to protect one another’s lives, knew him better than that. He knew the truth of Odin’s cruel center. The only difference between the two of them was that it was accepted when Odin sowed the seeds of war in the hearts of men, but not for Loki to play simple games with them, he thought bitterly to himself.

Either way, Loki felt no desire to explain to any of them why he had been gone or what he had been doing, least of all Odin. If he had been seen, he had no desire to question his good fortune in not being interrogated and if he hadn’t been seen, well all the better. Loki had taken great care to hide himself and his doings on Midgard of course, but Odin was not above trickery and deception himself. So Odin left him alone, but the others were deeply suspicious about the Tricker’s absence. Especially so when he only resumed his usual tricks halfheartedly, and then after a time, not at all. 

One day, Sigyn found him laying in the lush green grass beneath an apple tree, idly tossing one of its fruit up into the air and transforming it into various other things and back again, before catching it once more. 

“What troubles you, my husband?” came the calm voice Loki so seldom heard. 

He caught the apple and turned to look at her, standing just at the edge of the shade cast by the tree. She was as beautiful and loyal as one would ever wish one’s wife to be, with long fair hair and light blue eyes, but there had never been any love lost between them. He surveyed her rather coldly now. 

“Are you going to fix it for me, darling wife?” he hissed, his last words dripping with venomous scorn. 

She ignored this barb. “If I can,” she answered simply. 

He glared at her. He couldn’t explain why she vexed him so. There was nothing lacking about her, she was as simple and as plain and as flawless as any. Perhaps it was for this reason that he hated her. Her calm, patronizing voice, meant to be so reassuring and supportive, instead morphed into poisonous barbs under his very skin. A kind word twisted into ridicule and mockery in his mind. He detested her very being, her very nature, her very tendency to constantly be so kind to him. So forgiving, so unquestioningly loyal. He hated her for it, and it showed in his sharp pale face and his green eyes that seemed to throw sparks and slowly change to red.   
Sigyn took the darkening of his features as her signal to go, and with a nod of her head and a simple curtsy, she backed away from the shade and retreated back to the great shining hall, leaving her husband to glower and sulk alone under the apple tree.


	23. Leif

Mariana reclined on the sofa, trying to get some reading done, but finding a comfortable position was becoming increasingly difficult due to her advanced pregnancy. She had finally found a spot she thought she could tolerate when the front door opened and Loki walked in. When he saw her his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. It had been over a month since he’d seen her. 

“Oh darling…you look...” he exclaimed.

“Like a whale?” she asked dryly.

“No darling… like the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…” he said kneeling in front of her before he kissed her lips. 

They didn’t have long to wait for the arrival of their son. 

“Now Loki… when the midwife comes, be James, alright?”

He looked surprised for a moment. “Right, of course. You’re going to have him here?” 

“Well where would I rather? At a hospital? We don’t know what’s going to happen… the fewer eyes the better..” she was clearly nervous. He was as well.

“Right right of course…” he wrung his hands, feeling utterly useless and out of place.

He made himself scarce once the midwife came. He couldn’t bear to hear or see what was going on in the bathtub, he tried to bury his face in a book and forget all about it, but after what seemed like eons, he finally heard his baby cry. He put the book down immediately and got up to go to the door and waited outside it, he didn’t want to rush in and upset something. The door opened and the midwife’s face poked out. 

“Come on in James, meet your son.”

She had seen that same anxious face on so many fathers before. She smiled kindly at him and opened the door wider. He walked in to where Mariana was resting in a tub of warm water, cuddling a small baby on her chest. She looked up at him with tired eyes and a relieved smile. The midwife quietly excused herself and left the new parents to themselves. 

Loki walked over to the edge of the tub and sat down. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind Mariana’s ear.

“Are you okay darling?” his voice full of concern.

“Yes, sweetheart. Look at our son,” she said as she held him out to Loki.

“He’s wonderful.” The little boy was pale, unlike Mariana, and had a full head of jet black hair.

“Hold him.”

“Oh no… I couldn’t possibly…” he leaned away slightly.

“Yes you can,” she said gently. “Take him, it’s alright.”

Gingerly, very gingerly, he took the baby boy in his large slender hands and brought him close to his chest. 

“My first human son…” he said softly. 

“Yes… quite different from Fenrir, isn’t he?” she asked dryly.

It took Loki a moment to comprehend her joke. “Yes,” he chuckled. “Quite.”

“What should we name him?” Mariana asked.

“I… I don’t know… Leif?”

Mariana smiled at Loki, then the baby. “Yes, I like that. Leif…”


	24. Summons

Loki headed down the nearly deserted streets, back to the apartment, disguised as James. It had been about a week since Leif was born. He took a shortcut down a dark alley between ____ and ____ when suddenly an old one-eyed man, called out to him from his pile of rags beside a dumpster.

“Can you spare some change?” the old wavery voice called out to him.

“Sorry old man, I haven’t any,” he replied curtly.

“Well then perhaps you can spare a moment, Loki.”

Loki stopped dead in his tracks and turned around slowly. 

“Who sent you?” he hissed, eyes narrowing and looking around them.

“The Allfather requests your presence.”

“Then tell him he can come to me,” Loki said scathingly.

“The Allfather demands it,” came the wicked old voice.

Loki glared at the old man, anger clouding his features.

“Fine,” he hissed, before disappearing to sneak back to the apartment.  
….

“Mariana darling, I have to go to Asgard,” he said a little too calmly, standing just inside   
the doorway.

She looked up at him from the couch, skeptical. “Okay…” 

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, gave her and Leif each a swift kiss and swept out of the  
apartment with a billow of his black cloak.   
….

Loki stood before the Allfather who sat in his high throne, Hlidskjalf, in the shining hall of Valaskjálf. Odin held his spear, Gungnir, in his right hand and surveyed the man before him coldly. They were alone but for two guards. The day’s last rays of light filtered in through the many high, colorful, glass-paned windows, throwing Loki’s angular features into even sharper relief. He was clad in long green and black robes, his leather Sky-Walking shoes, and his golden-horned headdress, decorated with emeralds and rubies that matched his eyes. Loki’s face remained impassive but his sparkling emerald green eyes betrayed the emotions bubbling beneath the surface. 

“You summoned me, oh High One?” he asked in a falsely innocent voice and a mock curtsy.

Odin looked down upon his blood-brother, a malicious glint shining out of his one eye.   
“Ah yes, Loki, I do believe congratulations are in order…”

Loki’s heart seemed to freeze in his chest as he slowly rose out of his bow.

“Oh?” he asked, in the most unassuming voice he could muster. 

“Yes… for your newborn… son.” An evil grin stole across the face of the God of Poetry. 

“Son? What son?” he asked.

“Do not try that with me! You thought I couldn’t see you?! ME? I see everything in all Nine  
realms!” Odin shouted, rage seeming to pour off of him like steam as his short temper burst forth.

Loki raised his hands in peace and started slowly backing away from the angry king.  
“Now, it’s nothing, just a Midgardian woman… she’s nothing to me,” he said calmly, trying   
to placate the volcanic ruler before him.

“Well good. Then you’ll have no trouble killing her and your bastard son,” he said,  
grinning maniacally now.

“Killing them? Why would I..?” he asked feigning confusion.

“I know what he is. Do it. Or I shall do it for you, myself,” he threatened, leaning forward   
in his seat now, Gungnir pointing at Loki now.

Loki continued backing away, hands still raised, as if to ward off the anger still pouring off his blood-brother. “Yes my king, as you wish…” and he turned his back on Odin and scurried from the great glimmering hall, where he took to the sky with his Sky-Walking shoes that carried him to Midgard. He didn’t dare take his secret passageway now.


	25. Flight

Loki burst through the front door of the apartment, his face darkened with anger and a hint of something Mariana had never before seen on him: fear. His brow furrowed in concentration as he walked around the room, encircling Mariana and their child as he evoked the runes.

“Loki..? ” she asked, cautiously. 

“Shh,” he hushed her urgently and finished marking the room.

“Now Odin can neither see nor hear us,” then he turned to her, his face still full of concern and his anxiety was plain in his voice.

“As you know I was summoned to Asgard,” he said harshly, then began pacing the room.

“Yes..?” Mariana knew there could be no benevolent reason for Loki’s current demeanor and disappearance.

He stopped his nervous pacing for a moment and turned to her. He didn’t mince words. “Odin knows about you and the child. He demanded that I kill you both or he would do so himself,” he replied, his voice full of cold rage. 

Mariana’s face turned hard, but she wasn’t surprised. “You can hide us from him,” it was half a statement, half a question.

“I can try,” he hissed. “It’s not safe here. We must go. Take everything you need, the less magic I use to conjure up matter the better.”

Mariana hurried to gather their things and the three of them stole off into the night. Mariana didn’t question him. She had never seen him so thoroughly disturbed. He worked the runes as they went, evoking charms of protection and concealment. They soon reached the a deserted corridor and Loki nervously evoked more charms before finally saying, “I’m going to turn us into gulls. Follow me, act like me, don’t say a word unless I do. We must blend in if we want to have any hope of going undetected.” 

Mariana choked back the urge to ask where exactly they were going. She knew he wouldn’t want to say, in case his charms failed them, and the less available for Odin to see and hear, the better.

All the mental-shapeshifting and attempts to “manipulate one’s own aura” in the world could never have prepared Mariana for the sensation she experienced while changing into a gull. Most often, Loki’s tricks were more visual. The easiest to do was to purely change one’s appearance. The very matter of their being was not altered, rather how they interacted with light was altered, so changing how they appeared to others, but the true form still remained underneath. Turning himself into James or Lana for instance, required a little more work, as he could not allow the illusion to be revealed when he was touched, so he actually had to change the matter itself, physically. Changing human beings into another animal however, was something else entirely. Usually, Loki had the help of a skin, like Freyja’s falcon cloak, that would turn him into a falcon, but Loki’s powers and knowledge of the runes made it so he was not limited to relying on such devices. 

Mariana felt much like herself, but almost as if her atoms were not attached in quite the right way. She couldn’t feel her individual fingers, rather she could wiggle what was on the ends of her arms, or wings rather. Leif had been turned into a tiny flea that buried into the downy feathers on her chest, and their belongings had been turned into specks of dust in the feathers on their backs. Even though her body didn’t feel right, the sensation of flying felt marvelous. If she hadn’t know the reason for their flight to be so grave, she would have felt it was the happiest moment of her life. The wind beneath her wings, the icy cold stinging her eyes, the sound of the thrashing ocean beneath her, the air whistling through her beak was all unparalleled.

For a day, a night, and another day, Loki and Mariana flew out over the cold Norwegian Sea. They didn’t stop for anything, not to eat, to sleep, to rest, nothing. She felt the wind and the cold should have frozen the very blood in her veins, but her feathers kept her insulated and she seemed to be driven by an unnatural energy. This new body was so very different from her own. The vast expanse of ocean before them seemed endless, they had left the British Isles behind many many hours ago. Finally, the great rock that was Iceland rose out of the ocean to appear on the horizon. With an extra spurt of energy they surged towards it, following the eastern coastline up and around until they reached the most isolated part of the island. They drifted on the wind, slowly circling and searching, peering over cliffs and skimming the sand of the barren beaches.

Finally, Loki found what he was looking for and wheeled through the air to land on a rock above the beach. Mariana perched beside him, rather unsteadily. Still in gull form, he turned to her.

“We must wait for the tide to recede.” 

Mariana nodded her gull head and watched as Loki began to peck around at some seaweed that had splashed up on a nearby rock. She followed suit.

Finally the salty gray ocean pulled back from the shore, leaving discarded seaweed and shells and skeletons of its inhabitants in its wake. 

Loki hopped down to the sand and led the way to a rocky outcropping that had been an island at high tide. It was only when they were upon it that Mariana realized there was a small opening. They went inside, walking in the wet sand until it opened up to reveal a cave. The cave had a small pool of water inside it that would be filled at high tide, but above the ledge the cave opened up even more and reached back into the cliff. They walked for several minutes until the reached a series of dry rooms that would remained untouched even at the highest of tides and the angriest of storms. Still in gull form, Loki began to work his charms of protection and concealment and Mariana realized this was to be their new home. 

Her heart hung heavy in her chest by the time Loki finally returned the three of them to their natural states and the stress and fatigue of their journey began to wear on her. Leif, uncomfortable with the change he couldn’t understand, cried and Mariana pulled him close to her chest, giving comfort as much as receiving it and then feeding the tired baby. Loki looked weary as well as he sank down against a wall, exhausted with eyes half closed.

Mariana looked around. They were sitting on half-moon shaped ledge overlooking a shallow pool of water. The ledge was about 15 feet high, high enough to keep them dry even at high tide, and sloped down gradually to meet the sand at the front wall of the cave which had a small tunnel through which they had entered. Behind them was a passageway that split into two more chambers and was faintly lit by cracks in the rocks above them. The pewter-gray walls were so moist and slippery they almost felt alive beneath Mariana’s hand. With each pound of the waves the very structure of their tiny hidden refuge quaked and quivered, seeming to take a breath each time a wave crashed into it. She could already feel the cold clammy air seeping into her very bones and wondered how she could ever survive there.   
She spread out the meager blankets she had brought with them up against the cave wall, as far from the ledge as possible and, too tired to even eat, nestled herself and Leif into the blankets and settled down to sleep. It was long before Loki finally got up and slipped in beside her and wrapped his lengthy body around hers, adding his warmth to the nest of his fragile little family.


	26. Waiting

During the night, half-asleep, Mariana nursed Leif several times when he awoke but seeing as he was already cuddled into her breast, he didn’t have to go very far to find what he seeked. Each time, she felt oddly at ease, with her child on one side and his father on her other, his usually cold body warming them and warding off the chill of the cave, almost as if he was absorbing the damp cold into his skin and turning it into heat for them.   
The next morning she fully awoke when she realized Loki was no longer beside her and the chill began to seep back into her bones. He was standing at the other side of the ledge, deep in thought. Leif began to cry when he felt the warmth of his mother leave him as Mariana sat up. She sat there, watching him until he turned to her, looking grave. He wore his frown and worried brow constantly now.   
“I have to go. They’ll be expecting me,” he said in defeat, eyes cast down.   
“I know,” Mariana replied, acceptance in her voice.  
“I’ll be back soon with food and books and things,” he still didn’t seem to want to look at her.   
“Okay.”  
He looked up at the sound of defeat in her voice. He crossed the room in just a couple long strides and bent down to take her face in his hands and place the gentlest of kisses on her forehead, her cheek, her lips. She sighed and leaned into his hands, wishing he wouldn’t go.   
He looked intently into her eyes, as if he was searching for something, forgiveness, acceptance, hope, understanding. He didn’t know what. So he turned and swept out of the cave.  
Mariana watched him transform into a gull and waddle out on the damp sand, through the tunnel. She watched his back until he rounded the bend and she knew he would poke out into the daylight she wondered when she’d see next.   
She sighed and leaned back against the cold damp rock and held Leif on her lap. He could barely hold his own head up yet and looked at her with his big deep blue eyes. He looked wise for a baby. She felt like he could almost see into her soul. She sighed again.  
“Well, look’s like it’s just you and me little boy.”   
He continued staring at her with his round, unassuming eyes and she pulled him close, needing to feel the warmth of another living being next to her, to know she wasn’t truly alone on this desolate piece of rock. It didn’t comfort her much to think of the other three hundred thousand souls that accompanied her, souls who may as well never exist, seeing as she would never get a chance to see them. She tried not to dwell on it. Hopefully Loki will be back soon… with books… she tried to look on the bright side.   
“Maybe Mama’ll write a masterpiece,” she snorted. Leif just looked at her with his big open eyes. “You’re going to have a lonely life little man. But if you’re anything like your parents, you’ll have everything you need as long as you have your books and your imagination.”  
She liked to think he understood her. Maybe he did, at some level. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. He was warm and full of life, so unlike Loki’s natural temperature. He was frost giant, but beautiful, no different from the Aesir, only that his skin, his body, felt cold. Only in the heat of passion, of battle, of sex, of anger, did his body generate heat from the inside. She wondered how much like Loki and how much like herself Leif would turn out to be. She just hoped she would get to see him grow up.   
Mariana got up and walked him through the cave, exploring it while some light still filtered in. In one of the chambers she found a freshwater spring, seeping right out a crack in the wall. She knew she would be grateful for that. She kept one hand crooked around Leif, the other extended, feeling along the damp clayey wall as she walked. It felt alive. She felt like she was in the womb of the mother herself. Leif began to cry as the damp solitude began to close in on him, so she nuzzled him closer to her warmth and retreated back the way they had come, back to the pile of blankets and small bundles of food they now called home.


	27. Return

Mariana was laying on the blankets, tickling Leif and enjoying his uncomplicated baby sounds when a dark gray seagull wandered in, making footprints in the wet sand. It had been two weeks since Loki left. She looked at it, and it looked at her.  
“Yes? May I help you?” she asked, teasingly.  
The gull jumped onto the ledge and transformed back into Loki with a burst of sparkling green magic.   
“I come bearing gifts,” he returned a little breathlessly, opening his hands in a sweeping motion where there appeared a large pile of books, journals, sketchpads and writing and drawing utensils. From under his cloak he pulled out more blankets and pillows and tossed them down near Mariana with a flourish.   
“Now darling, where’s my reward?” he growled hungrily, kneeling down before her.  
“Haha, reward? You think you deserve a reward for leaving us here in a cave while you gallivanted around Asgard?” she asked with mock indignation.   
“Well I came back didn’t I? And I brought you everything I could.. I’ll bring more…” he looked genuinely upset for a moment. “Would you rather I’d killed you?” he asked, with a teasing glint back in his eye.   
She rolled her eyes at him and placed Leif in a nice bed of clothes she’d made for him and turned back to his father. “Of course not… then I could never do this…” she said softly as she slid a hand up to fondle his neck and leaned in to press her lips to his. She broke the kiss too soon and heard him moan softly. “Miss me darling?” she asked, teasing him.  
“Yes,” he growled and pushed her back on the pillows before stripping off his overcoat and crawling under the blankets with her, his hungry mouth finding any and all exposed skin and setting each spot on fire with his kisses and soft lips.   
She sighed and leaned back, giving in to his kisses and his need. She wanted him too and he could tell. He stripped off her pants with deft hands and she reached for his belt buckle, past all the leather and the metal that adorned him. He moaned softly when he finally felt her soft hands on his skin, and a little louder when she finally freed his member from his pants. She stroked and caressed the soft skin, loving the way it seemed to reach for her, wanting more. She bent down and kissed the head, teasing him.   
He growled low in his throat when she pulled back, setting him on fire and refusing to appease him. She smiled devilishly, and pushed off his shirts before pulling him down on top of her. He ground his hips into hers, rubbing his hard cock against her clit. She moaned and bucked her hips up to meet him. He smiled and pushed up her shirt to reveal her breasts and caressed them, first with his hands and then with his warm, wet mouth. He suckled gently and she moaned, not expecting her full breasts and tender nipples to still feel so wonderful in his mouth.   
She pulled him up to kiss him fiercely, needily, her slightly parted lips meeting his and her tongue gently opening his up for more. He responded, pulling her into his mouth and kissing her deeply. She moaned into the kiss and reached down for his long hard cock before pumping him with her hand slowly at first, but his urgency increasing quickly with his need. She used the head of his soft member to rub her clit, as gently as she could on her still tender parts. She frantically rubbed eachother until their ecstasy crashed over both of them and they lay there, panting in the aftermath. Mariana glanced over at their baby, thankful he was still in a deep sleep and content to lay with the comfortable weight of her lover resting on top of her.   
“Never move. I could lay like this forever,” she sighed.  
She felt him smile into her neck. “I wish I could darling.”   
After too short a time in both of their minds, they parted and busied themselves with food. Loki was nothing if not clever. He had brought her beautifully woven fishing net and a handsome rod with endless line. Her brought her a rack for curing the fish and taught her the runes for conjuring fire. He brought her baskets for collecting seaweed and a rack for drying it. He brought other food, everything he could carry.  
“I know it’s not much, but at least I know you won’t starve to death if I don’t get back in time with more real food,” he said, frowning.  
“It’s okay sweetie,” she said, reaching up to kiss him.  
She arranged the pillows and blankets in a more comfortable way, able to make a more proper bed now and stacked the books and materials nearby and the food on the other side of the passageway. They ate a small dinner of fish and seaweed stew along with some bread and cheese he’d brought with him. Then they hunkered down in the blankets with Leif cuddled across their laps.   
It must have looked odd, the God of Mischief buried under blankets with a Midgardian woman and her small offspring, but to Mariana it felt like nothing could be more right. She looked over at the handsome, incredibly handsome man beside her. She could just barely see his eyes through his thick lashes. Today they were a sea-foam green.   
“Loki, you’re an old man…” she started and he turned to raise his eyebrows at her. She smiled sheepishly and continued, “I’m sure you’ve read everything there is and ever was. Read me something you love, your favorite,” she requested softly, leaning her head against his shoulder.  
He looked down at her, somewhat surprised. “Alright darling…” He carefully reached a long arm out to the pile of books and selected a well-loved leather-bound copy of Shakespeare’s Sonnets. With the ease of someone who had done so innumerous times, he turned to the page containing Sonnet 18 and in his velvety-smooth voice, began to read. Mariana lost track of how many sonnets he read to her. All she knew was she still had the sound of his smooth rich voice in her ears when she finally slipped under the dark comforter of sleep.


	28. Calm Before the Storm

Loki didn’t stay long. It became their routine, their ruse. He would travel the nine realms for no particular reason, stopping in Midgard as if it were just another spot in which to stir up trouble. Then he’d return to Asgard to mingle with the others and go on the occasional foray or adventure, often to right a situation in which he’d had the main hand in producing. He knew he had to keep up with his usual tirade of tricks, least the others become suspicious and begin questioning him or wondering about his motives.  
Loki had assumed by now of course they would have heard all about his Midgardian woman and child and Odin’s demand that he kill them, but no one mentioned it, not even the usually gossipy Freyja who needed to be in the middle of everything. Loki decided Odin must not have told them, but why? He feared it meant Odin really did know who the child was, and therefore knew just what kind of threat he posed to his regime, and ultimately, his life. He shuddered to think what would happen if Odin discovered he had disobeyed his orders. Loki tried his best to avoid Odin, but no more so than usual. He flitted about Asgard in his usual playful, if devious, manner, acting as if killing the mortal and her child really had meant absolutely nothing to him, and didn’t threaten to overthrow all of his carefully laid plans.  
Only Sigyn seemed to wonder about his change in behaviour, especially considering their last encounter, but she had been married to him long enough to know how to weather the storms of his changing emotions. She knew better than to question him or try to console him. She observed his return to his usual antics with some concern, but she accepted it and kept her reservations to herself. She silently wondered what her crafty husband was up to. But seeing no reason to change their usual arrangements, she kept her distance when Loki roamed through the kingdom of Asgard, and he showed no sign of wanting her near him.


	29. Introspection

Time passed excruciatingly slowly for Mariana. Day and night had little meaning to her, rather, she measured the passing of time by the tides. At first the sound of the waves had kept her up, but it didn’t take long for the rhythmic pounding of surf on rock to morph into a kind of lullaby. The crashing of the waves sent reverberations through their cave, up through the floor, out from the walls, filling and surrounding them until it felt like they lived inside the very heart of the ocean and each wave was merely a pumping of the blood, the life force surging all around them. The cave seemed to come alive and it formed a comforting cocoon around them, enveloping them and protecting them. Mariana had never felt closer to the Mother than when living in their little ocean cave. The salty moist air, at first so humid and so foreign, over time felt more natural than anything else. If she concentrated on her breathing just so, she could almost convince herself this was how it felt to suck in great gill-fills of ocean water, back when the ocean was their home and the water their air. She felt ancient in that cave. Ancient as the ocean itself.   
Only the cries of her infant brought her back to reality when she became lost in the sensations of the cave. He was her companion, and together they explored the wisdom and regality of ancient Greece, the splendor and pomp that was Rome, the quiet power and knowledge that was ancient China. They watched Shakespeare’s greatest plays come to life, with Mariana as both the actors and the audience. They had their hearts wrung by the Greek tragedies, cried over Romeo and Juliet. They cried with the Cherokees on their Trail of Tears, walked across the desert with the Hebrews, dragged their toes in the water with Huck Finn, shook with fear as they crossed the Atlantic with Kunta Kinte. Their triumphs were her triumphs, their sorrows were her sorrows. She read constantly, filling her head with tales of by-gone times and enriching her imagination with new ideas, new places, new characters. It was often disorienting, leaving the green countrysides of England and returning to her cold, clammy cave.   
Mariana spoke to herself, to her son, constantly. She had been alone so long, with only her infant for company, that before long she began to find meaning in his baby babbling. She imagined that he understood her and tried his best to respond, and she let herself fill in the blanks. Leif never seemed to tire of his mother's voice. When she spoke she held his rapt attention, his large blue eyes fixated on her face, watching her features change, animated in her story-telling. She read to him, miming out the action with her hands, changing her voice for each character, acting out a one-woman play. Mariana had never been much of an exhibitionist, never one to vie for attention, but with Leif as her captive audience, her long repressed acting skills came to life.   
She played the fool for her son, draped herself in blankets like robes, made silly faces and silly voices, anything to make him laugh. She adored his baby giggles. They were the only thing in their world that could truly make her feel less alone. One such day she was enacting the framing tale of One Thousand and One Nights for her son, he as the bride and she as the Persian king, dressed in a splendid red (blanket) robe and matching turban, trying to humour the small “queen.”  
“Oh my dear, you’ll see, I know of this most marvelous tale, full of magic and mystery and love,” she said dramatically, bowing low to the eight month old baby where he sat on a raised platform of blankets and cusions, losing her “turban” in the process.  
“Have you room for one more in the audience good sir?”   
She started out of her bow when she heard the Trickster’s laughing question, dropping her turban on the ground once more.   
“Loki!” she gasped.  
He smiled wryly. “Expecting someone else dear?”  
“No! Of course not I just…” she trailed off, clearly flustered.  
He walked up the ledge and took her in his arms and smiled down at her.   
“You’re becoming quite the actress darling.”  
She rolled her eyes at him. “I look crazy.”   
“Maybe just a little… But I kinda like that,” he murmured into her ear.  
She swatted at him as best she could but he had her arms pinned against his chest.  
“You’re crazy.”  
“And you’re not?” his breath hot on her neck.   
“I must be,” she replied quietly, already lost in his eyes.   
He kissed her tenderly a moment, holding her close and breathing in her scent, then broke off to look over at the small boy still staring at them, wide-eyed and unassuming.   
“Is he always so quiet?” he asked her, brows furrowing.  
She laughed lightly. “He’s just watching the performance. He needs to concentrate,” she said seriously, but with a slight twinkle in her eyes.   
He released Mariana and bent down in front of the baby.  
“Well little man, what did you think? Did I do okay?” his asked seriously.  
The baby met his father’s gaze with an equally serious one. Loki imagined he could see the cogs working behind the boy’s forehead, analyzing the “performance” given by his parents. He half expected him to reply with a critique. He laughed lightly and turned to Mariana.  
“I see now what you mean when you say he understands you… I’ve never seen such wise eyes, especially in a baby…” said ruminating, turning his head to the side slightly, considering his son.   
“He’s very wise,” Mariana said, causing the baby’s deep blue eyes to break away from his father and look up at the owner of the most familiar voice in the world to him. He smiled at her and waved his chubby little hands, reminding them both that he was, after all, just a baby.   
“Do you think he’ll learn magic?” Mariana asked softly.  
Loki turned sharply to look at her, wondering at her meaning. “Of course he will.”   
“When will he start? Will you teach him?” she asked in a level voice.  
He turned back to the baby. “Well first he’ll start talking and then you can teach him to read…” he trailed off, lost in memory. “We’ll see. He’ll show you when he’s ready.”


End file.
